"I believe you have a new admirer."

"Another man gawking. You know that doesn't bother me like it used to," said Coraline with a sigh.

Sandy held up a note. "This man wrote you the sweetest poem. The things he said about you would make a camel blush."

Coraline's hand shot for the note, but Sandy yanked it back out of reach. "Ah, ah."

"You did not read the note."

"I did."

Coraline gripped the other woman's wrist and wrestled the note from her, almost tearing it. They both shared a giggle. Coraline caught her breath. She realized she was blushing, and not from the exertion. Like a silly grade schoolgirl.

"Is it really that steamy of a poem?"

No one had ever written her a poem before. She didn't know that romantics existed on Mars, or at all anymore.

"I didn't really read it, Cora. You know I wouldn't do that to you."

A small part of her heart sank. Why? Was she actually hoping that a stranger had written her a poem? What was becoming of her? She promised herself she would not, could not let all of the attention get to her head. She had Ashton to care for. She didn't have time to dote on every man that tripped over his own jaw hitting the floor as she walked by. Except for Roy. But Roy was...different. She made an exception for him.

She turned the note over in her hand. She didn't know what the note held. For all she knew, it could be a poem. Or something worse.

"Well? You gonna read it?"

Coraline flipped the note open and stared. The rigid handwriting shouted from the crinkled paper.

I HAVE QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR FRIEND. WILL PAY HANDSOMELY FOR HONEST ANSWERS. MEET IN SPEEDER PORT ASAP.

She read and reread the note. Who could possibly want to question her? And which friend did they mean?

Moving to the edge of the kitchen doorway she peeked out. Sandy moved to stand behind, looking over her shoulder.

"That man over there. He was with that group at the Faro table with you earlier."

The tall man—Edgar she believed he called himself—leaned against the bar on his elbows, his borg arm so much bigger than his natural arm it was ridiculous. His gaunt face drooped, covered in thick grey mutton chops.

"He's kinda handsome, don't ya think. For an older man anyways. Seems nice enough too."

The man wasn't drunk, hooting at any of the other women, or doing much of anything. He drank by himself now while smoking a cigar, staring off into the distance as if lost in memory. Compared to the other men at the table, who made no effort to hide their lust, this man had been a complete gentleman.

And now that man wanted to speak with her about one of her friends. Coraline thought it odd that he wanted to talk to her, a fairly new resident of Mars, of all people.

But maybe that wasn't a coincidence. A chill ran down her neck. What if Bron sent someone to fetch her? Would he be wild enough to do something like that? Who was she kidding? She wasn't that important to him. Besides, Bron had no money. How could he have persuaded anyone to come looking for her?

Unless their debt was the persuasion. Towards the end of their relationship, Bron had spiraled into depression hard. On top of heavy drinking he had given into desperate means of making creds. And he owed a lot of people a lot of creds. Any number of Bron's shady acquaintances could have sent this man to fetch the creds by any means necessary. She had no real idea how powerful the low lives Bron pissed off were. They could have the resources to track her down and make her pay.

Coraline stopped her runaway imagination before it got the better of her. She escaped Bron, started life over, and had created a chance for Ashton to be someone. Old habits die hard, but she must silence the paranoia.

She shoved those foolish, wary thoughts out of her head, all except the cautious voice telling her to be careful.

She stepped into the women's restroom, taking refuge in a stall.

Out of her dress she drew her coil pistol. It rested in her palm. A tiny thing. But it would get the job done. Coraline wasn't naïve. She knew men desired to be close to her. That same desire pulled their guard down. She could play their unwanted advances on her against them if she needed to. The gun only had five shots. Each one had to count. She spun the cylinder, double checking it was loaded, even though she knew it was.

Leaving the stall, she motioned to Sandy. "Going on break. Cover for me, and let him know."

***

The hover vehicles sat still, lined in neat rows between thick slate grey concrete support beams. There were no flashing casino lights, no jovial ragtime tunes, no thick clouds of cigar or cigarette smoke. Yet as quiet as it was, anything could happen to her in here, in the underground parking garage, and none would know for a considerable amount of time. Doubt stormed back into her mind. Maybe her pistol wasn't enough. She should have brought Sandy with her.

Coraline walked for several paces, head turning, searching between the rows for the man. Perhaps he wasn't out here yet. She waited for a few more minutes, but the man never showed. Oh well. Anything he wanted to say, he could say to her face upstairs on the floor.

She spun around to go back and stopped dead in her tracks. The man appeared from behind a concrete column, then leaned casually against it, as if to offset the weight of his massive metal arm. She stifled a scream. Her fear was replaced by anger. Her hand gripped the pistol grip hidden in the folds of her dress.

"What do you want, huh? Out with it man."

Looking left and right, he beckoned her forward with the wave of his hand. She stood her ground. "Whatever you have to say to me, you can say from over there."

The man shrugged. "Fair enough."

His voice caught her off guard. It did not match his face. It came from a much younger soul than the gaunt face looking back at her.

"I've been looking for a man named Royce Rothspalt."

"You were just playing Faro with him. And everyone knows when he's not here you can find him in the church. What's this really about?" The hardened edge in her voice surprised Coraline, giving herself a bit of confidence.

"Did you know Roy before he became a minister?"

"No."

"Years ago, under an alias, Roy gathered a group of people under the guise of religion, and most of those people are dead today as a direct result of listening to him."

"Are you saying Roy is a murderer, some kind of serial killer?"

"Oh, he's much worse than that."

"What do you want with him?"

"To bring him back to Earth to face charges."

"How do I know that you're not some swindler trying to get info on Roy so you can pilfer from his church donations?"

"I believe you and your son are in grave danger. It's paramount that you give me the information I need."

A spark of rage ignited in her head. This secretive man stood in front of her making demands and now he threatened her son. The pistol jumped out of her dress, aiming straight between the man's eyes. Her thumb primed the hammer.

"Are you fixing to harm my boy, mister? Because I'll knock your brain loose, right here and now."

The end of the gun shook, wobbling with the hot rage coursing through her arms.

The man held up his hands. "Okay, lady. I didn't want to do this. Can I trust you?"

"Can you trust me? You're the one asking questions, making threats, and calling the reverend a murderer."

His hand twitched. Coraline stepped forward, edging the gun closer.

"Easy now. Don't freak out. I'm going to touch a button behind my ear. Don't waste me. Hear me out. Then decide."

The man did so. His face flickered, shifting. He was wearing a holomask.

"I seen you before," said Coraline. She racked her mind. Where though? He'd been the man that gave Ashton the spaceship toy, preoccupying her son so he wasn't restless in church. The man and she had shared a smile after that. Yes, now she remembered. He lingered in her mind because of his eyes. She was wary of almost anyone interacting with Ashton, even at church. But though the man was a stranger in a city full of downtrodden cynics, this man did not raise any of the hairs on her arms. On the contrary, he seemed innocent, sweet even. She wasn't sure exactly how she knew, but it was something in his eyes, a sullen sadness as he watched her son sit next to her in the pew, as if he had children long ago, or had wanted them. Perhaps he'd never had the opportunity.

At the moment he touched behind his ear again and the mask dissolved altogether, replaced with the handsome thick-mustached, caramel face of a younger man in his prime, of mixed black and white American descent. Why, he wasn't Rubrun at all. He was from Earth, like her.

Without realizing it, she lowered the gun a bit.

His hand went for the edge of his coat, slow like, but Coraline caught the movement and raised her gun again.

"Just give me a moment. Don't shoot."

He peeled his high-button sack coat back, revealing a shining star badge, the emblem of a lawman. Under the badge in all capital letters read the name Irving . "Miss Coraline, forgive the disguise. I'm U.S. Marshal Tracy Douglas Irving. The Department of Justice sent me here, all the way to Mars to retrieve Roy Rothspalt for a laundry list of crimes, mostly for the deaths of several hundred people tied to cult activity."

The sound of his voice, the look in his eyes, his real face, the badge, it all started to make more sense now.

"You know where the reverend spends his time. Why not detain him yesterday?"

"In front of his loyal and heavily armed congregation? I'm just one filthy Terran lawman. I've got no pretenses that anyone here respects my authority or gives two hoots about gunning me down in broad daylight. What I need is to apprehend Roy somewhere quiet, somewhere he won't expect. A place where the fewer eyes the better."

"Why do you need to drag me into this?"

"He's got eyes for you. He wouldn't bat them twice if you wanted to speak with him at a private location."

"If Roy is as bad as you say he is, you want me to lure a murderer with my...charms, and then what?"

"I'll lie in wait. Once he's got his guard down, I'll apprehend him and be on my merry way. He need not even know that we're working together."

"How will I be compensated?"

Tracy grinned. "With the warm satisfaction of knowing that you helped a lawman detain a crazed criminal at large."

Coraline scoffed, shaking her head. "Not good enough, pal. Your note said compensation."

"That was the only way to ensure you'd listen to me before I revealed my badge."

"I'm being put at risk, which means you're putting my son at risk. I could shoot you now. Like you said, no one would even care. My son is everything to me."

A different emotion tugged at the lawman's lips, softened his eyes. Had she struck a nerve?

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, as if he was wrestling with information he didn't want to give up.

"You don't want to shoot me. And I don't want to do anything to put your boy at risk either, Ma'am. I can try to secure a reasonable amount of compensation for you. But my ship was shot down, and I haven't had the ability to contact my support back home on Earth. When I get a chance, I can make sure they wire you enough to make this worth your while."

"How much we talking?"

He told her the amount and her ears buzzed. Coraline caught a gasp as it tried to leave her mouth.

That many creds? With that kind of money she could buy a house for her and Ashton. She could start a ranch, with all kinds of livestock. She could buy seed to grow crops for herself and sell the excess. She could hire honest farmhands to do the work for her, while she managed the business. She wouldn't have to work at the saloon, no longer enduring the catcalls and unwanted attention of drunken scum. She would be a woman of higher class, respected in the community. Ashton could get an honest education. She could multiply the creds over time, so that she'd have something to give Ashton when he reached adulthood.

Coraline lowered the gun, easing her grip. Her hand ached from the tension she held during the conversation, but her heart soared. The question of trusting this Tracy was settled. He seemed honest enough, and his story seemed true. The only questions remaining was if she would comply and if this Tracy would keep his end of the bargain.

"How can I be assured you or your government won't bail on me? Terra's known for that."

Tracy pursed his lips. "You get me a decent comm unit and help me set this thing up, and we'll contact them together. I can even get you a percentage of it upfront."

Coraline stuck her hand out. Tracy shook it. "Mister Irving, you got yourself a deal."