Martians Abroad

Charles, however, didn’t care about stuff like that and slid into the seat next to mine.

He kept looking straight ahead when he said, “So, what did you?”

“I escaped,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Not very well, obviously.”

“I wasn’t trying to escape permanently. I just wanted to see a horse.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“So mission successful.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t say anything else. Just looked straight ahead while everyone behind us talked and chattered and rustled. I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, if anything. Twin telepathy failed, yet again. He didn’t even seem to feel my stare boring into him.

Stanton put me on restrictions for the rest of the trip. I would stay at the hotel assigned to us, or on the bus, but I would not be participating in any activities with the rest of the group. Everyone else was going to see a play tonight—Manhattan was historically known for theatrical productions. I would not. I couldn’t say I was all that disappointed. I’d have done it all over again for the chance to run my hands down the horse’s neck.

When we got back to our hotel, Ethan pulled me aside in the lobby. I was about to get angry because I thought he was going to be all pitying and sympathetic, looking at me like I was crazy. Or dangerous. That was the weird thing, the way people looked at me like ducking out for the sole purpose to seeing a real-live horse was somehow dangerous. Upending the social order or something. Whatever. But Ethan didn’t do that.

“I’m sorry you can’t come to the show tonight,” he said. And he really did seem sad, or disappointed, or something.

I shrugged. “It’s okay. You guys can tell me about it later. Not a big deal, really.”

“Well, it kind of is.” He pressed his lips together and his dark eyes glanced away. Something was wrong, but I didn’t know what, so I waited for him to just say it. “I guess … I was kind of hoping this could be like a date. I know a field trip can’t really be a date. But … well. I figured I’d ask anyway.”

I had to look up at him, he was so tall, even though he seemed kind of slouching and chagrined at the moment. Sheepish, I think was the word. I had tried so hard to not care about the play, and now all of the sudden, when it wasn’t going to a play for school but going on a date with Ethan, it sounded so much more fun.

And why couldn’t anything on Earth work out the way it was supposed to?

“Yeah,” I said, smiling. Grinning, maybe. Kind of silly-feeling. “I’d like to go on a date. I mean, if I wasn’t grounded again. But yeah.”

I took a chance. Another chance. You’d think I’d be cured of that by now. But I took his hand and squeezed. We stood there for a moment, hand in hand, just looking at each other. And it felt … nice.

“Um. Great,” he said, then after another long moment he glanced over his shoulder. “I suppose I don’t have to go to the play—”

“No, it’s okay, you should go,” I said. “You don’t want to miss out on all that culture and learning and privilege-to-be-here stuff. Go get ready, I’ll be here when you get back.”

He smiled, gave my hand another squeeze, and went off to the elevators and rooms.

* * *

I still had my handheld. I could read or watch a vid from the comfort of my bed. Or soak my near-blistered feet. Higher gravity even made blisters worse.

Before leaving with the rest of the group for the play, Charles managed to slip a note in the room I was sharing with Ladhi.

POLLY’S EYES ONLY

Keep an eye on the lobby for me. Think of it as anthropology, and pretend that you like anthropology. There’ll be a quiz later.

Why did he have to be so hyper?

Technically, I was supposed to stay in my room, but Stanton didn’t say specifically I was supposed to stay in my room and not wander to the hotel lobby. Mostly, she implied it, but she also didn’t leave any chaperones behind to supervise me. She should know better by now than to trust my good graces. The hotel had security vids, and presumably she’d told building security staff not to let me out of their sight. If it was me doing the restricting, I’ve have put security locks on the doors and elevators and disabled my key code from getting me through anything. Would Stanton have thought of that? Even without Charles’s note prompting me, I decided to test her, just to see for myself.

My room was unlocked. The lift door let me pass. I didn’t have to show my ID pass or anything. The trick was just like back at the museum: keep walking like I was allowed to be here and wasn’t doing anything wrong. Chin up, all the way.

The doors to the lift slid open and I entered the lobby, with its wide granite floors, potted plants, and intimidating furniture. We’d been informed that the whole thing was made to look like a fancy historical hotel from two hundred years ago in a living history kind of display. The only difference was the automated services at the front desk instead of the uniformed workers there would have been in the old days. The real wood, the big plush furniture—all exactly the kind of thing you’d expect to see on Earth.