Tory realized he was right about everything. Maybe she hadn’t thought this plan all the way through, figured she would nick a suit when she got to the hub, on arrival she’d spotted a number of airlocks that had to be equipped for emergencies. And it would definitely be safer to stow away on a transport and probably smarter than try to walk all the way to the landing field right out in the open.

“Maybe I don’t have enough then,” Tory agreed.

She had maybe a couple 500ml bottles of flavored water and a half dozen lunch bars. The way he talked she might need more. But she hadn’t wanted it to look like she’d run away. There was only so much food in her families quarters at any time in any kind of surplus. Another crappy thing about this ball of crap world. Crap. Crap. Crap.

When she glanced back over, Valentine opened up another panel, pulled a small pack about, about the size of her old Clipjets school backpack out and tossed it to her. Like any toss on Mars, the small back hung in the air a lot longer than she was used to, before she had to scramble to catch it.

“There’s days food and water in there, for a full grown adult,” he told her, squinted again. “At you size you could probably stretch it to five.”

Tory opened the pack. It was what he said it was. Nine full-sized food packs were inside, plus a 3 one liter bottles of vitamin water. She pulled out one of the food packs, started going over the writing on one. Salisbury Steak? Oh, these were even self-heating. That was... good! These were just like The Steal and the team they’d found in the vault of that long dead prepper.  Those had been tasty too.

She put the food pack back, glanced up at the smiling old man who loomed over her.

“Thanks… Valentine,” she said, still unsure about his intentions, why he was helping her.

I mean, who was that nice and meant it on this world?

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

He kept grinning back.

“Just don’t get caught in an airlock,” he advised. “And make sure the p-suit you steal has a variable size setting for the suit. Oh, and has fully loaded main and backup tanks. Got it?”

Tory nodded.

“Then get a move on girl,” Valentine ordered with a wave. “Before someone notices you’re not where you’re supposed to be. And more importantly-”

He took a glance around with a worried and then confused expression on his face.

“-someone notices I’m not where I’m supposed to be.”

Tory took a couple steps back, eyeing the old guy, then turned and headed down the corridor. She looked back once when she reached the next T. He was still watching, even as she turned the corner, so she waved goodbye and sped away.

She couldn’t stop thinking about that encounter, all the way to the transport hub. Valentine was a bigtime historical figure! And she’d just run into him, and had even been saved by him! How crazy was that? Just thinking about him, brought back the multimedia lessons about the first colonization, how it failed. But, more importantly, how he had been one of the few who had survived until help came five years on the planet without aid, proving that despite the risks, Mars was going to be a new home for humanity, even if it was the most miserable second home of all time.   Definitely like The Steal would be as a granpa.

She stopped for a moment when another thought came to her. Valentine had to be a hundred years old now maybe more. Shrugging again, Tory figured she’d just been lucky, and Valentine had been in the past a bit of a rebel – he had been arrested a lot, according to the records. It was a funny thought, her having something in common with the first Martian. Maybe they were supposed to meet up for some reason, minus the being arrested bit – at least hoped.

A couple hours later, she reached the hatch that was her goal. Opening it, Tory slid out into a massive hangar several times the size of a basketball arena filled with vehicles of all kinds. To be honest, she wasn’t surprised she didn’t get lost, even if most newlanders couldn’t even get around the Underhill Complex without referring to their spreaders. Her sense of direction had never failed her, not on Earth and not here on Mars.

She took in a deep breath of accomplishment and let it out.

Step one. Getting out of the CU: Complete. Step three: stowing on a ship back to Earth and not being found out until it was too late.  Wait.  she was getting ahead of herself. Step two was next: Finding a rig that would get her to the spaceport before anyone realized she was gone!