Chapter 13

Dry, sulfuric winds whipped around his ankles, across the landing pad, and tunneled between the buildings to create a whistle that was louder than the approaching ship. Ares slapped the mask on as he skirted a neighboring vehicle. It filtered out the worst of the smells and sediment, and protected the eyes, and he hated it. The upper portion eradicated his peripheral vision. He would have much preferred tolerating the aggravation than risk losing any advantages, but Anicka had been firm in her original instructions.

“Everybody planetside wears them after dark,” she’d said. “Don’t, and they’ll suspect something’s up.”