Mars Needs Women

Chapter 13 - Sugar

I put the word out to the bride network. Now we had hundreds of eyes searching for the culprits using the names, photos, and descriptions Walt provided. Janus even hung up a homemade wanted poster in the pub. If they're out there, we'll find 'em.

Four days later, while we ate breakfast, I got a call on my com-viewer.

"Mavis? This is Emilia," said the voice.

Emilia was a Martian bride originally from Central America. "What's up?" I replied in between chews, putting my device on speaker.

"My husband works at the spaceport, and he thinks he saw those two men going up in the space elevator."

My eyes widened. "Really? Does he know when exactly?"

After distant, garbled voices, where Emilia talked to someone else at her end, she came back on. "He said two days ago, first thing in the morning. And they seemed desperate to go."

Turning to Walt, I said, "We may have gotten a break."

Walt, having eavesdropped on the conversation, snapped up his com-viewer and placed a call. "Seth? Someone sighted them. Can you meet me at the spaceport?"

Intercepting Walt on his way out for a quick kiss, I told him, "Be careful." He dashed out wearing his sheriff badge and a stunner pistol while Ming waited for him with her car out front.

My gut churned all morning, and I kept picking up my com-viewer, hoping for a call. The nervousness as I waited for news didn't help with productivity sorting through public business records.

I jerked as my com buzzed and I snatched it up. "Walt?"

"Mavis..." The long breath and pause that followed set me on edge.

"Did you find them, Walt?"

"Sort of, but they're long gone. They took jobs on an asteroid mining ship. It'll be out for six months, then return to an Earth space station."

"Now, ain't that convenient!"

"I know," he said. "The marshals sent out arrest warrants, but it doesn't help us."

"Do you think someone arranged for them to get out of Dodge?"

"I would bet on it. And we both know who it was."

As I hung up, a tremble shook me. This was bad. Those two low-lifes might get away with arson, and more importantly for us, won't point out the real villain. Now our records sleuthing became even more important to implicate Fleming Barnes.

*****

"It's almost time!" Janus yelled up the stairs.

We all huddled in front of a big viewscreen down in the pub. There weren't many customers yet, being the evening lull period between the after-work crowd and the later night customers.

This was the first of a vid-blog series by Jyn's blogger friends, Jordan, who anchored the show and his husband, Amos, who did the camera and editing work behind the scenes.

A rotating image of terraformed Mars appeared on the screen accompanied by epic-sounding intro music, then zoomed in on Ares Central. The show host appeared, a light-skinned man with shoulder-length sandy-brown hair tied back in a ponytail and neatly trimmed beard. Green eyes sparkled in the lighting.

"Good evening, fellow Martians," said the man with an inviting smile, "and welcome to another thought-provoking episode of the Martian Chronicles. I am your host, Jordan McVee. Today, we begin an eye-opening series we call the Martian Brides."