Page 86 of The Lottery

I look to Azalea, who silently shrugs, then steps away from the door, eyes shifting side to side nervously.

I could ignore the chime. Ignore Lana.

But that may only make things worse.

I need to–

A screen appears in front of me, showing me the other side of the door.

Dear God.

I swipe my hand over the palm reader, and rush outside my suite as Lana collapses into my arms. Her nose is bloodied, one eye purple and swollen shut, hair matted and sticky and dark.

Azalea rushes to her friend's side, hands shaking, eyes filling with tears. She tries to speak, but words don’t leave her lips.

Lana’s chest barely moves as she breathes, her white gown dirty and crumpling at her feet. “I…” Her voice is shaky, weak. “I… I told him no… I…”

My body burns with rage. I meet her eyes with my own. “Who did this?”

But I fear, I already know the answer.

23

ZAE

“A blade of grass is a commonplace on Earth; it would be a miracle on Mars. Our descendants on Mars will know the value of a patch of green. And if a blade of grass is priceless, what is the value of a human being?”

—Carl Sagan, Astronomer

* * *

Buddy fucking Fischer.

I try to keep my body from shaking as we sit near the artificial fireplace in Marek’s room, his jacket wrapped around Lana, a cup of hot tea in her hands. She told us what happened. How Buddy approached her. He was drunk. Flirty.

He wanted her.

She said no.

And then…

“Dr. McCoy has arrived,” Metis informs us.

Marek lets her in immediately. She looks tired, dressed in baggy sweats, no doubt roused from bed in the middle of the night, but when she begins to examine Lana, it is with a calmness and precision I would be unable to muster this moment. “Did he… force himself on…”

“He tried,” Lana says quickly, a fire entering her voice. “He did not succeed.”

I swallow bile at the back of my throat. I can barely contain my rage and my sorrow. “That bastard needs to pay.”

Marek nods, taking my hand in his for a brief moment before pulling away. It takes me a moment to process the weight of his gesture. That he would offer me such comfort in the presence of others. “I have contacted the crew,” says Marek, turning his gaze away from me and toward Lana and Dr.McCoy. “Buddy Fischer has been apprehended and will shortly be confined to his room.”

“Merci,” says Lana.

He shakes his head. “There is no need to thank me. I am simply doing what needs to be done.”

“How long?” Her voice trembles. “How long until he is free again…”

“I… do not know.” Marek sighs. “I do not know what will happen. But rest assured. You have nothing more to fear from Buddy Fischer.” I can see the certainty in his eyes, but also the worry on his face. This is not a situation he is prepared for. None of us are. Where do we go from here, when the first few days on our new planet have been spoiled with blood?

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