Chapter Eight

Zenon's zap-pad went off again, and Proto Zoa answered almost immediately. "Sweet Jesus," Lester said. "Where've you been?"

"My zap-pad got fried. Look, we found Dasha, and she's unharmed, don't worry, but we have bigger fish to fry right now," Zoa replied, propping the zap-pad up on the nightstand as he picked a bag and tossed a few things into it. "Can you contact General Hammond?"

"Why?"

"I have a message for him, one I'm sure he wants to know."

Lester pressed a few buttons, and the general asked, "Who are you and what've you got?"

"Sir, it's Proto Zoa," Proto Zoa said. "You have three days before Numbar goes up and the space station goes down."

"Ever give any thought to why he'd want to do it?"

"Probably wants to replace it with a dock station of some sort to piggy-back on the way to Mars. That's the only reason I can think of, and remember, we have three days. I'll do my best to distract him, but I can't guarantee good results; if I could, this wouldn't be a problem."

For a long moment, the general was silent, and then he asked, "What is your recommendation?"

"My Wonder Bus is parked in the Seven Stars parking garage in Los Angeles. Take a passenger on the way down so that they can take it back up. Zee will never forgive me if I don't help evacuate the space station as soon as possible, so please, hurry."

"I will," the general said, and with that, he signed off.

"Thank you, Lester," Zoa said. "For everything."

"No problem."

"Oh, and if anything should happen to me, take care of Zenon. Make sure she's set."

"Okay, I will."

Zoa dropped the bag on his bed and examined the contents. "You know, this is probably a bad idea, packing."

"Depends on how long you're gonna be there."

"It could be the last day of my life. It could be a few hours, a few minutes, or even a few seconds. You heard me make arrangements to help evacuate the spay-stay, Zenon's spay-stay. You heard me tell the general that Zenon would never forgive me if any resident up there died because of Numbar's little stunt. Lester, I need to be certain in what could be the final days of my life. Can I trust you to help me finish what I started?"

Lester nodded curtly, a soft smile on his face. "I got your back, kid," he said.

"Thank you." Lester nodded again and signed off.

ZZZ

The conference room was pandemonium, and try as he might, General Hammond couldn't get everything under control in the usual fashion, so he opted for a more direct approach. "Quiet, now," he shouted. The room fell silent immediately. "We will organize this evacuation in an organized manner. I will take someone down to Earth in search of a vessel large enough to transport everyone who doesn't have a pod of their own, and those who do have pods will leave this space station in an organized manner before Patrick Numbar can get here to blow this place up. This notice will be released as soon as possible and as calmly as possible. We must take every chance possible to avoid utter disaster."

His soldiers saluted him, and he saluted back before they walked out of the room, leaving Mark and Astrid Kar and Margie, who was watching from the corner. He nodded to the three and walked out of the conference room. "Zenon's fine. She's with Zoa," Margie said before following her father out of the room.

Mark took a deep breath. "I suppose we'd better pack up and stay with your sister," he said. "Safest place for us while this whole thing blows over." Astrid nodded, and they walked out of the conference room, down a few corridors, and into their room.

ZZZ

Zenon tapped on the doorframe, after the door slid open. Zoa looked over at her, slightly surprised, and when he recovered himself, he asked, "Should we pack or not?"

"Idea mode minor," she replied, "but I don't think this is gonna be a long trip."

"You're right. They're probably evacuating the spay-stay right now. In three days, it'll be up to us and Margie, if she stays, to disarm the bomb and stop Numbar's plans, for now."

"What if we don't?"

"Then it should be easy for us to get out."

She walked over to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and buried her face in her chest. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "Don't be afraid," he whispered. "You're strong, I know you are, and I'm right here. I always will be."

"Don't leave me."

"I won't, I swear."

"Zoa, if anything happens to me, take care of Dasha."

He exhaled softly. "Nothing's going to happen to you, Zee. You're going to be fine."

"What if I'm not?"

"I'll die before I let anything happen to you, and if I die, I told Lester to take care of everything."

Zenon closed her eyes and squeezed him gently. "I don't know if I'm ready to watch this time."

"You have to at least go, if only for the practical reason of retrieving your pod before it's destroyed."

"Oh, great. The dream is a self-fulfilling prophecy major."

"I never asked for you to try to stop Numbar from blowing up the spay-stay. That was something I never expected, because I thought it would be much too difficult for you, and I didn't want you to invest too much and lose so much more. I have no idea how to watch you go through that. All I wanted was to help you save all of those people's lives."

She squeezed him a little bit harder. He responded in kind, running a hand through her hair and entwining his fingers in it. When she pulled away, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly. "We're in this together now," she said when she had the chance.

"All or nothing," he replied. "Now, let's see this through." She smiled, and he kissed her again.

ZZZ

Dasha turned on the television and began searching through the news stations when she found something in a language she understood.

"Riots in Brazil, the Republic of the Congo, and other countries around the world are becoming increasingly more violent," the newswoman said. "In spite of the best efforts by police to keep the riots under control, dozens have been killed worldwide and hundreds more injured."

Dasha winced. Riots were supposed to be a thing of the past, only found in history books in impersonal terms that had no real effect. This was different. Something was severely wrong, not with the system in place on Earth, but with the Martian colony.

That was it, she realized. Mars was retaliating, and it wouldn't be long before World War Three broke out because of it.

The weather came up, and it seemed as if riots weren't the world's only problem. Storms of various forms were tearing paths of destruction across large swaths of the world.

This colony plan had to be stopped, and soon. Of this much she was sure.