Page 2 of The Red Woman on Mars

Somehow.

The woman came closer. “A man like that isn’t going to let up until he gets what he wants. He may not have any power outside the walls of this camp, but in here, he’ll always find a way to assert his power over you.”

“And?”

The woman flashed a badge. “I’m with the Arcadia Group, representing the interests of the Martian dome on Earth.”

Vivian jerked her head. This was a new one. “Hello.”

“How would you like a ticket out of here, Ms. Bowen?”

“Mars?” Vivian hadn’t been outside the high walls of the Sumter Refugee Camp since she was a teenager. People like her were lucky to get a work permit for a factory in Charlotte, not travel to another planet.

“I’m looking for women just like you. Women who are interested in the adventure of a lifetime.”

“Women,” Vivian repeated skeptically. “Only women?”

“To be precise, healthy cis women who have no kids, partner, or addictions. Ages eighteen to twenty-five. A surprisingly hard set of criteria to fill.”

“To do what?”

“Marry a Martian and have their children.”

Vivian barked an involuntary laugh. “I’m not having children.”

The woman tilted her head, taking in the tent community. People were starting to emerge from their homes now. A few cooking fires had been relit, and one girl who couldn’t have been older than fifteen sat on a stool outside her tent with a baby nursing at her breast. Two skinny half-naked toddlers ran screeching in between the tents with no minder in sight.

“Of course you don’t want childrenhere. Who would?” She gave a flick of her fingers, as if dismissing the refugees en masse. “The wealthy Martian oligarchs of the Arcadia Dome are seeking a group of Earther women to travel to Mars to marry them and bear their children.”

“Like an arranged marriage?” She looked down involuntarily at her historical romance novel. Some things were better off staying in fiction.

“Not exactly. You’ll have the choice of a spouse. In fact, you’ll be courted. You know the Martians—any excuse for a ball with them.”

Vivian did not, in fact, know anything at all about the Martians. “Not interested.”

“This is a job, Vivian. You’ll be paid.” And she named a sum so outrageous Vivian opened her mouth in shock. It was more money than she could hope to acquire in a lifetime. Enough to buy a permit to leave the camp for good. But perhaps not enough to buy three permits.

“I have a sister,” Vivian ventured. “She’s turning eighteen in two weeks.”

“Delilah is welcome to join you. I do have a quota to fill.”

Vivian touched her throat. What was preferable? To get in bed with Max Rinaldi or an unknown Martian? There would inevitably be a baby either way. Birth control was illegal in the Carolinas, and Vivian wasn’t fool enough to trust Max to pull out. If she stayed and acquiesced to the dubious protection Max offered,would she end up a tool of the brutal gang that ran the camp, turning on her own friends and their children? And Delilah—Vivian couldn’t bear to see the light go out of her sister’s eyes. They’d both been lucky to stay under the radar of the Rinaldi brothers and their men for all this time. If Vivian hadn’t been arrogant enough to believe she could get away with changing the camp’s status quo, she might have escaped their notice longer.

But to leave the camp for good, with Delilah by her side. To earn the funds to buy her parents a way out. Hadn’t she been dreaming of a chance like this for seven years?

“Alright,” Vivian said slowly. “I’m in. Take me to Mars.”

After seven years, three months, and eighteen days, Vivian finally found an escape—into a gilded cage.

CHAPTER ONE

61 Sols to Presentation Day

Did I just trade one hell for another?

Bright garish colors, pungent smells, and the unfamiliar burden of gravity assaulted Vivian as she took her first steps on the surface of Mars. She pushed the unwelcome thought away and straightened her spine. Letting her eyes adjust to the full sun, she watched the willowy Martians moving confidently through the expansive redstone plaza as they perused the merchant stalls selling cultured beef kabobs, recycled electronics, flavored water, wide-brimmed hats, and vibrant clothing. Even in the shuttleport, close to the dome’s edge, the translucent barrier soared double the height of their lanky forms.

Her friend Luz slipped beside her and squinted up at the Martians. “They don’t look like aliens.”