Free Losing Mars (Saving Mars Series-3) by Cidney Swanson Page A

speaking whilst keeping the pipe properly in place. It was difficult. He had to catch at the pipe repeatedly as his grip loosened during some of the broader vowels. Of course, his reflexes were appalling in this aged body. He failed to catch the pipe twice and had to squat in the dirt to find it, his vision requiring a closer look to locate the tan clay pipe on the tan soil.
    Speaking aloud had made him thirsty. How could he have forgotten to pack water? He patted the old woman’s clothing, smiling when he located a water-skin— she hadn’t forgotten. This time, he didn’t drop the pipe from her mouth when he smiled. But he couldn’t figure out how to drink while holding the pipe in her mouth, so he placed the pipe in an upper pocket and drank slowly. He had a recollection from his research of desert life that it was best to take small sips.
    Gaspar felt very proud of himself for having a bit left still in the skin, when at last he came upon the edges of Yucca and could spot the first of the hummocks that he supposed must indicate underground dwellings. Intel on the area had been sparse, but he knew they all lived underground. Like ferrets or badgers or ground hogs. How very odd a way to live. Another wondrous experience to be savored.
    Gaspar smiled. He had the best job in the world.

18
    SOMEONE WHO GETS ME
    Jessamyn was awakened the next morning by a loud discussion outside her bunk room. She pulled her hair into an approximation of the bun she’d seen Kazuko wear and wandered into the central room.
    “Oh,” she said upon seeing Gran conversing with Pavel. “Merry morn.”
    “Merry morn,” repeated the old woman. Her clay pipe was wedged as usual between her remaining teeth.
    “Good to see you, Gran. I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually,” said Jessamyn. She struggled to find the right words. “I know you meant to do me a great honor by picking me for your mystery-ingredient gatherer, and I’m, um, honored . A lot. But I don’t want the job.”
    “You don’t want the job?” asked the old woman.
    Jess shook her head. “Nope.”
    “Remind an old woman: what job was that, pretty?” asked the old woman.
    Jess frowned. “The lichen. I don’t want to be in charge of it.”
    “Hmm,” responded the old woman. “And what would you suggest?”
    Jess looked to Pavel for help. He shrugged. “Well, how about you pick someone else and teach them instead?”
    The old woman nodded, removed the pipe, and chewed her gums for a moment. “How about you pick someone else and teach them instead?”
    Jess hesitated, uncertain if the old woman was mocking her or actually making a suggestion. It didn’t sound like mockery. Jess nodded. “Okay, then. How about I pick Renard? He’s a citizen already.”
    The old woman nodded. “Very well. Let’s find Renard together, shall we?” She rose and swayed a bit as she stood. “Let me lean on you, pretty.”
    Jessamyn didn’t appreciate being called what she felt was a demeaning name, but she decided she’d offered enough offense for one day and held her tongue.
    The two found Renard, who was very pleased indeed at Gran’s decision to make him Guardian of the Herb in Jessamyn’s stead.
    Gran shrugged. “She said she didn’t want the job.” The old woman demanded next that Jessamyn show Renard the location of the lichen. As they approached the rocky outcropping, Renard spoke out.
    “Gran, it’s getting pretty warm already. Are you sure this is a good time?”
    “A good time?” asked Gran, chewing her gums.
    “I mean, there’s bound to be snakes by now,” said Renard. “I know your circulation’s bad, but believe me, it’s hot enough for rattlers to be active.”
    “Right,” said Gran. “Nasty critters. Perhaps we ought to return later.”
    “Tomorrow morning, early, Gran,” said Renard, winking at the old woman.
    “Tomorrow morning, early,” repeated the old woman, turning and shuffling back the way they’d come. “I’m bored, pretty. Why