The Lion of Mars: Chapters 21–29

But being somewhere so dark was completely unnerving.

I heard a rustle of wings.

Festive decorations hung everywhere. The room was full of grown-ups and kids wearing colored-paper hats. A woman and a man were dancing in the middle of the floor.

She shook her head as if mystified.

“I am forced to practice three days a week. It is the bane of my existence!”

Flossy, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, said, “Vera’s got a point. Remember what Sai told us, about how they left Lissa to die? I don’t know if we can trust them.”

My favorite dish was something called a crêpe, a thin pancake with chocolate sauce. It was the most perfect meal ever invented: breakfast and dessert rolled into one.

Layla turned to me, a quizzical look on her face. “Does he not like music?”

“He seems very nice,” she mused.

“I found out what happened to the digi-cam outside,” Trey said. "The one that was broken.”
Remy gave a sheepish look. “Uh, yeah, sorry about that.”

There, in a darkened alcove, were Albie and Layla.

Amélie handed me a bag with dramatic flair.

“Why did you all lie to us?” Vera asked in her usual blunt way.

“What’s this?” I asked Sai, picking up a rubber blob-shaped thing. It was tacky and squishy at the same time.

“After everything you children have been through, you certainly deserve a kitten,” he said, a solemn look on his face.

“Advice on technical issues,” he said in a neutral voice. “Dust remediation and such.”

“Advice on technical issues,” he said in a neutral voice. “Dust remediation and such.”

You do not have authorization to liaise with hostile nations. Tensions remain high here. Cease all contact immediately.

“It wasn’t their fault. The launch window wasn’t in our favor,” Sai said. But there wasn’t much conviction in his voice. It was like he was trying to convince himself.

A dark, gloomy sadness had fallen on the settlement. It crept around corners and curled up on the couch. It made mealtimes silent and stole away laughter. Everything felt diminished, bland, like all the color was gone.

Her hair was growing out, and her bangs were sloppy. They were distinctly un-Vera.

“What about these?” Trey asked Meems, holding up a book titled The Astrobiologists’ Almanac.

Leak—clog?
Leak mitigated

It took me a while to understand his shorthand. But when I did, it made so much sense. “AIW” was short for “All is well.”

Halfway through, the diary changed: fewer scientific notations and more observations about people.

We are so terribly alone now. The children are the only thing that keeps us going. Their happy smiles are a reprieve from our loneliness.

"We tried to reason with him, but he was inconsolable. Lissa was his best friend’s daughter. He’d grown up with her father, Will. Sai had promised to take care of Lissa on Mars. He’d loved her like she was his own daughter. After Lissa died and he contacted her parents, he didn’t leave his room for days.”

He sat stiffly on the side of the room, back rigid, as if he wished he was anywhere but there.

The mess hall was bustling when Trey and I walked in for breakfast.

“But what about Lissa?” Sai asked in an agonized voice. “She was hurt, too!”