Chapter Twenty-Three
In a scant ten minutes, the Dorsey staff had a bag packed and an aircar ordered.
On the grounds of the estate, Zuri stood with them as they waited for the white aircar to land on a concrete slab to the side of the house. Xavier said something in his sister’s ear, and she clung tightly to him. “Don’t fret,” he murmured. “We’ll be back in a day or two.”
“Be careful. Both of you.”
Xavier flashed a grin. “I’m always careful.”
“He’s lying,” Zuri told Vivian. “My brother is a menace.”
“We’ll be careful,” Vivian promised, though she had no idea if she could keep such a promise.
“Let’s go.” Xavier swung the duffel over one shoulder and touched his hand to the small of Vivian’s back for the briefest moment. In the aircar, he buckled himself into one of the two seats and issued crisp instructions to the AI pilot before turning to her. “What do you know of Catena?”
“Not much more than what I learned the night we dined with River,” Vivian admitted as she settled in the other seat and located the safety harness.
“Catena and Arcadia don’t get along?” The aircar rose smoothly into the sky as soon as Vivian strapped in and gained a steady altitude in a matter of moments.
“Each Martian dome is an independent state,” Xavier explained.
“Arcadia is the oldest and most established. The other domes look to us to set the standard for upholding the values of our forebears, but we have no hard political power over them. If you were to travel to the other domes, you would see differences in regional dialect, food, and fashion, but our way of life is fundamentally the same.” He looked out the window at the Arcadian cityscape.
“Catena is different. It’s a separatist dome actively working to develop a distinct culture and an independent economy. The Intelligence is outlawed.”
“Is Delilah in danger?”
Xavier gave a helpless grimace. “I don’t know.”
“A separatist dome.” Vivian frowned. She’d heard the term before, but she hadn’t absorbed the meaning until now. “Are you in danger in a separatist dome?”
“I’m fine,” Xavier said shortly. He unstrapped and stepped into the small open cabin. From the canvas bag, he pulled out a black outfit. “This is for you, borrowed from one of our Earther household staff. Women do not wear dresses in Catena.”
“That will be a refreshing change of pace.” Vivian studied his closed face. “Are you embarrassed by this?”
“Of course not.”
Vivian thought of the way his eyes had fixed on her when she wore Ivey’s badminton costume. She’d assumed at the time that he looked at her with disapproval. Now, she suspected he had another reason. She unbuckled and took the clothing. “Turn around then.”
Xavier obeyed. Vivian watched his long, straight back in the tiny cabin as she stripped out of her dress and underskirts. The black pants were made of a shiny material that clung to her legs, and the high-neck tank top revealed her shoulders and stretched over her chest.
“I’m done.”
Xavier turned to look at her and cleared his throat.
His eyes stole over her body before he turned back to the bag.
“My own ensemble is not so drastic a change.” He removed his jacket and waistcoat, revealing a white shirt.
Xavier loosened his navy cravat and slipped the tie and shirt over his head.
Vivian knew she should return the courtesy of looking away, but she was too curious.
Xavier’s lightly muscled brown torso was longer than an Earther man’s.
What would it feel like, she wondered, to run a finger down the smooth middle line of his abdomen?
She rubbed her hands together, remembering the feel of his rough thumb on her knuckles.
As she watched, Xavier pulled a black T-shirt over his head, changed his shoes into practical black sneakers, and left his dark Arcadian trousers.
The overall effect was startling. Without his hat, Xavier’s close-cropped hair framed his elongated head.
The shirt displayed his toned arms and the open hollow of his throat.
He looked more like an Earther, even if his grace and elegance prevented her from seeing the kind of man she’d avoided in the refugee camp.
“Shoes.” He handed her a pair of black sneakers. Vivian put them on without comment, occasionally stealing glances at Xavier’s changed appearance.
“Strap back in. We’ve reached the Arcadian shuttleport,” Xavier said. “I’m using false identification at the checkpoints to keep both our names out of it. The aircar has a false registration as well.”
“What will happen if the IDs fail?”
“If they fail, it won’t be here. This is my family’s dome.” Xavier stared intently at the small craft’s front window as the ship moved slowly through a checkpoint line.
“And in Catena?”
Xavier shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“State your purpose,” an official voice sounded through the cabin.
Xavier gave two false names. “We are traveling to Catena on business. Our line of work is terraforming consulting.”
“Please be aware that Arcadia has issued a travel advisory. By entering the Catena dome, you assume an increased risk of fraud, theft, injury, and death. Outsider political activity and activism are strictly prohibited by the Catena authorities.”
“Thank you. Your warning is noted.”
The ship passed through the barrier onto a holding deck. The dome wall rotated and the ship was suddenly outside the dome and in the thin Martian atmosphere.
“Death?” Vivian demanded.
“We’ll be fine.” He said no more.
Uneasily, Vivian looked out the window at the barren Martian landscape.
The ground was a rusty red, and the aircar stirred dust in its wake.
Since she and her family arrived at Sumter, Vivian had never gone anywhere at all, except in her imagination.
She had a greater range of motion on Mars, but her life was still constrained and full of rules.
Now, in a single afternoon, Xavier Dorsey had taken her further than she had ever dreamed.
As they rose, Vivian had a full view of Arcadia. The dome glittered in the blazing sun. She could see linked rail lines to other domes, a spider web of connections that grew more and more complex as her view zoomed out.
There were no rail lines to Catena.