Defying Mars (Saving Mars Series-2) by Cidney Swanson

course. What we’re all wondering though—and I think I speak for everyone at home—is … how did you feel standing in the presence of someone who wasn’t even wearing the skin they were born with?”
    Crusty stared at the face of the woman interviewing him. Jess saw him pause as he regarded her lack of First Wrinkle, her exaggerated eyelashes, her unnaturally colored lips. “There’s plenty enough folk here on Mars dressed in somethin’ that don’t resemble what God gave ‘em to start with. I reckon the Terran I spent my time with would fit in just fine here.”
    “Well, that just about wraps it up for our time here this morning,” said the woman. “One last question for each of you. Let’s start with you, Crusty: what did you find yourself missing most?”
    “Bein’ left alone,” said Crusty, eliciting laughter from around the room.
    The anchor smiled brightly and turned to Jessamyn. “And yourself? What did you miss most?”
    Jessamyn’s heart beat faster. Her mind threw answers at her, loud and fast. Sunrise over Mount Cha Su Bao. Rations with my parents. Playing Monopoly. Scrubbing the solars. Flying. Pavel. “The smell of peroxide,” murmured Jessamyn.
    “Well there you have it, folks. She travels over one hundred million kilometers and she misses the one thing I spend all day trying to keep out of the house!”
    The moment the vid recorders turned off, the newswoman’s fake smile disappeared. After a cursory thank you to the Mars Raiders, the anchor turned to the Secretary and murmured, “Well, I guess you didn’t choose them for their verbal skills, did you?”
    Jess flushed and stood to leave.
    “Oh-oh-oh,” said Nessa Niedermaier, reaching to grab Jess by the shoulder. “Just one moment. We’ve got you back on camera this afternoon with the board of directors, and that gives us just enough time to get the two of you into New Houston Outfitters for a fresh new look.”
    Crusty stared at her as though considering which of the several salient phrases from his colorful vocabulary might best suit the occasion.
    “I’ll be wearing my Academy whites for all future public appearances,” said Jess curtly.
    “Hmm, well, we were thinking of an image that your average girl-about-Mars could relate to a bit better,” said Nessa.
    “Her whites will be fine,” said the Secretary calmly. “I believe this is the ideal opportunity to inspire Mars’s future generation of scientists and explorers. Wouldn’t you agree, Nessa?”
    The events coordinator made a series of abbreviated noises before landing on what it was she had to say. “Very well, Madam Secretary. If you think that would be best.”
    “It’s settled then,” said Mei Lo. “And Crusty? Feel free to don work coveralls if you’d prefer. We have another generation of builders and engineers to inspire as well.”
    Nessa’s powdered face colored visibly, but a small squeak of alarm was her only audible objection.
    “Jaarda, I’ll see you back at my office at 14:00 sharp,” said the Secretary. “We’ve still got things to discuss.”
    The studio, now empty of all excepting Crusty and Jessamyn, felt suddenly like that last place Jess wished to be.
    “I’m going to suit up,” said Jess.
    “You feel like takin’ a walk over to the Galleon ?” asked Crusty.
    Jess nodded. Minutes later the two strode side by side toward MCC’s largest spacecraft hangar. To one side of the Galleon was the space where the Red Dawn should have rested. Someone had piled it with crates and equipment, and the sight felt to Jessamyn like the desecration of a grave.
    “ Galleon ’s in much better shape than she oughta be, by rights,” said Crusty, interrupting her morbid thoughts via their private comm.
    “Is she?” asked Jess.
    “Well,” said Crusty, bumping a gloved hand against his helmet as he tried (and failed) to scratch his chin. “I reckon she’s good for another couple trips before she starts complaining too bad.”
    Crusty grew