Page 39 of The Red Woman on Mars

“Sister, let me introduce you to Mitzi King, my future wife,” Delilah proclaimed rather proudly.

Vivian opened her mouth in shock.Mitzi King? Really?But even as she thought it, her chest eased with a traitorous sense of relief. Delilah was going first. Her parents would be alright.

“Delighted,” Mitzi drawled without letting go of Delilah’s arm. “Have you found a partner then?”

Vivian pressed her lips together. “Not yet.”

Mitzi looked down her angular nose at Vivian. “Ticktock, as it were. Delilah is fortunate I was still available.”

“Youare the one that is fortunate,” Delilah replied with a smile.

The woman barked a laugh. “I do adore your sass. Come home with me tonight.” She leaned into Delilah’s ear and whispered something too low for Vivian to hear.

“But—I thought—aren’t we to wait until the embryo is successfully implanted?” Vivian sputtered, twisting her hands in front of her.

“Come now, Miss Bowen, that directive is for the men. Delilah is in no danger of conceiving an unmodified fetus withme.” She swatted Delilah on the bottom, and Delilah giggled.

Vivian grabbed Delilah’s arm. “I need a moment with my sister,” she snapped as she dragged Delilah away. Out of Mitzi’s earshot, she said, “You can’t be serious. That woman will eat you alive.”

Delilah smirked. “She promised to eat me for hours.”

“This isn’t a joke, Delilah! This is the rest of your life. What about Caspian?”

“He’s gone. I’m not making the same mistake again. I’m not letting someone else leave me because I couldn’t make up my mind. At least Mitzi is interesting.” She gestured across the room to where Mitzi stood, sipping a cocktail and watching Delilah with heat in her eyes. “Look at how much she wants me. It’s sexy.”

Vivian’s stomach churned. Soon it would be her turn to go to bed with one of her suitors. Would it be like it had been with Silas? Would she turn stiff and cold, enduring until her partner finished? Was she too broken for anything else? “I don’t think I can do this.”

“You can.” Delilah wrapped her sister in a sudden fierce hug. “You brought me to this beautiful place with parties and sketchbooks and ballgowns. For the first time, I think I could be truly happy.”

This place is a cage, Vivian thought. But she couldn’t say that to Delilah. Her sister’s happiness made everything worth it. She’d always believed that.

Then why did she feel close to vomiting?

Vivian rested her chin on her sister’s shoulder. “I’m glad.”

“Viv, you’ll find someone you’re compatible with. I know it.”

Vivian drew back. “I’m not sure. Luz told me it’s not possible to know what someone’s like behind closed doors.”

“I love Luz dearly, but she really is a tough old bitch. She’s turned you into such a cynic.”

“Maybe.” Vivian blew out her breath. “But I think I am going to take Luz up on her invitation to visit her new home for a few days. I can’t attend these endless parties in this walled estate with the same dull people for the next three weeks. I may as well get a chance to see more of Mars before I pick a husband.”

“Seeing Luz will be good for you.” Delilah hugged her sister one more time and then gave her a smirk. “The next time you see me, I’ll be …” She stuck out her belly and proclaimed in her best Wim impression, “A Red Mother, carrying the future hope of Mars.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

21 Sols to Presentation Day

When Vivian arrived at Luz’s new home, she held her friend as if it had been years, not weeks since they had last parted. “How are you feeling?” Vivian asked anxiously, thinking of Dr. Chavez casually rattling off potential side effects.

Luz made a throwaway gesture. “Just some nausea. Nothing I can’t handle. Come inside and let me show you around.” With only five rooms, Wim’s home would be considered modest by the standards of the Martian aristocracy, but Vivian found it charming. She liked the simple, practical furniture with none of the pretense of Hayes House. From the window, Vivian glimpsed the grandeur of the Yarrow family house shining down on them from its elevated perch atop a crater.

After giving her a tour, Luz sat her down in the living room across from Wim and returned with a tray with three glasses and a pitcher filled with a bright green drink. As she poured, Luz warned, “I’m still perfecting the recipe. I overdid it on the lime juice.”

“This is excellent, my dear,” Wim told her cheerfully. “It would never occur to me to drink a vegetable. Your creativity astounds me. What do you call this?”

“It’s just a cucumber agua fresca.” Luz gave a pleased little smile at the compliment. “I grew up on them. In Harlem, we’d add a spicy rim of tajin, but I’m not sure yet how to re-create thechamoy sauce.” She tapped a finger on her glass. “I think I want to try tracking down dried hibiscus flowers, if they exist here.”