Page 8 of The Red Woman on Mars

She nodded agreement as if she understood anything about wine and went to find a bare spot on the wall.

“You’re the first Red Mother to order a drink all afternoon,” an amused, posh voice commented.

Vivian turned her head to see Xavier Dorsey leaning against the wall, half-hidden in the shadow of a curtain. “Whereas you seem to have had several.”

Xavier swirled his half-full glass and raised one corner of his mouth. “Have you been watching me?”

“Only to understand why you’re here if you have no intention of meeting any of us.”

“I am in attendance to lodge a protest.” He fingered a silver button on his suit jacket lapel. “Why are you here?”

Hadn’t the headset told her this man wasn’t a match? Good. She could finally say what she really thought. “To get paid.”

Xavier barked a short laugh. “So mercenary. You express yourself with refreshing candor, Miss Bowen.”

“Even if I’m not enough to tempt you, Mr. Dorsey?”

His dark brown eyes held hers. “Oh, I’m very tempted, Miss Bowen,” he murmured in a low voice that sent a shiver of heat through her. And then his tone turned harsh, like an abrupt plunge into icy cold water. “But not enough to participate in this despicable and dangerous experiment. Find someone else to bankroll your lifestyle.” He gave her a short mocking bow and walked away.

Vivian sputtered at his retreating back. “Asshole,” she muttered and tried to shake off the spark he’d ignited. An unsuitable match indeed.

But as she watched him walk away, her unease grew.Dangerous? Where’s the danger here?

CHAPTER THREE

59 Sols to Presentation Day

“Y’all gotta come see this!” Camille’s high-pitched voice pierced the walls of Vivian and Delilah’s room.

Still in bed, her sister sat up. “What is it?”

Vivian put down the brittle paperback she’d brought with her from Sumter and stood from her position on the floor. “Probably nothing. You know how dramatic Camille can be.”

In the dining room, the other women were gathered around a built-in console displaying a video. Against clips of yesterday’s luncheon, an eager voice-over said, “The Founding Families came out in force to welcome the first Red Mothers to Mars. Secretary Yarrow opened the event wearing her signature Cartier diamonds and an exquisite gown of imported French silk designed by local rising star Po Quincy.” Yarrow’s brief speech to the luncheon crowd replayed on screen. Vivian’s stomach clenched all over again when she heard Yarrow mention the sixty-day window.

“This reporter was shocked to see outspoken opponent of the Red Mothers initiative Counselor Xavier Dorsey in attendance, sporting a scandalous pin on his lapel.”

The video turned to Xavier standing on the pathway outside the banquet hall with a Martian reporter. “You’re looking especially dashing this afternoon, Counselor. The vest is quite becoming.”She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and gave him a coy look. “Tell me, Mr. Dorsey, about the pin you’re wearing.”

First the bartender, now the reporter, Vivian thought.What could they possibly see in him?

Not that she cared.

“I wear a feather quill to symbolize my desire to write a new chapter in Arcadia’s history, free from the influence of AI.” His dark brows drew together. “The Intelligence may have conceived of the breakthrough in reproductive technology, but it’s not equipped to make decisions of ethics. I call upon my aunt, Secretary Yarrow, and the Council to halt the Red Mothers initiative immediately before further harm is done to these vulnerable women.”

Over more footage of the luncheon, the voiceover continued, “The Red Mothers hardly seemed vulnerable yesterday as they enjoyed their status as the guests of honor. The beautiful Earther women made their first appearance in Martian society dressed in a fashionable assortment of colorful gowns.”

The women on screen were unfamiliar, elegant socialites. Luz’s ruby-red lips made her normally closed expression seem mysterious. Delilah’s blond curls bounced as she laughed, dwarfed by the surrounding Martians who stood several heads taller. Camille’s smooth dark brown skin contrasted with her bright blue gown as she turned to reveal the dress’s low back. Vivian spotted her own pale face among the flashes of the women mingling in the crowd, delicate and ethereal. The Red Mothers on display were pampered, well-dressed, and desired, showing no trace of the desperate Earther refugees in jumpsuits who’d arrived on Mars only the day before.

“All eyes are now on the Red Mothers as the richest and most powerful descendants of the Founding Families vie for their hands in marriage. In the next sixty days, they will pick their spouses and prepare to bear the future hope of Mars. And asthey do, you know you can count onArcadia Lifeto keep you informed.”

“We’re famous,” Camille’s cousin Felicia exclaimed. “Imagine that!”

Leaning against the back wall, Luz drawled, “Canyou be famous in a population of only fifty thousand people?”

“They have their own news here, don’t they?” Camille retorted. “Why do you always shit over everything, Luz?”

“That outlet—” Luz pointed one finger at the now-black screen. “Is a gossip rag if I ever saw one.”