Mars (60 page)

Sheepishly Jamie got out of his bunk and headed for the lavatory before any of the others awoke. For the first time since they had left the dome, he shaved. The razor seemed to be slicing flesh, even though it drew no blood. No blood left in me, Jamie thought wearily. The lotion stung when he splashed it on, but the sharpness of the pain was almost welcome after days of the dull, sullen, glowering ache that had been dogging him.

“Thanks,” Jamie muttered to his freshly shaved image in the lav’s metal mirror. “I needed that.” The face that looked back at him was gaunt, red eyed, with hollows beneath the high cheekbones. You’re turning into a paleface, Jamie said to it.

Joanna seemed wearier, too, and Ilona barely managed to pull herself out of her bunk and make it to the lavatory. After a glum breakfast Jamie accompanied Connors outside despite the astronaut’s mild protests.

“There won’t be a media conference until the antenna’s fixed,” Jamie pointed out. “So there’s no reason for me to stay inside.”

He got the impression that the astronaut was too weak, too much in pain, to argue. Jamie himself felt ragged, and tired. The night’s sleep had done nothing to restore his strength. The achy feeling that had assailed him for two days now was worse; every muscle in his body felt strained.

Morning mists hovered as they stepped out from the airlock. Tendrils of cold gray fog drifted by, slowly as departing spirits. Where does the moisture come from? Jamie asked himself again. It’s being replenished every day. It evaporates when the sun touches it, and then more mist forms the next morning. How? Why?

Connors ignored the mist. “Looks like we’ve got some digging to do.”

The rover was piled almost roof high with sand on its windward side, nearly buried in dust so fine and loose that it blew up in powdery clouds when the two hard-suited men stepped in it.

“Good thing the hatch is on the sheltered side,” Jamie said.

“I don’t think the sand’s heavy enough to keep the hatch closed,” Connors said, as they walked through the powdery drifts, tossing up plumes of dust with each booted step. “We could’ve pushed it open with no sweat, I betcha.”

Maybe, Jamie said to himself.

Connors clambered slowly, awkwardly up the ladder set into the command module’s side just behind the cockpit canopy and began to examine the microwave antenna.

“Just what I thought,” Jamie heard in his earphones as he waited at the ladder’s base. “Goddamn dust wormed its way under the gasket seal … oh shit, I can’t believe I did that!”

“What? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just dumb, that’s all. I tried to blow the dust out of the gasket.”

Connors was grumbling to himself. Then Jamie realized, “With your helmet on!”

“Fogged up the faceplate real nice.”

“Turn up the blower.”

“Already have. It’s clearing up.”

Connors came down and went to the outside equipment compartment on the lab module for tools: a fine wire brush and a shovel. In a few minutes he had the antenna mount clear of dust.

Over the suit radios, they asked Joanna to check the TV link. They saw the antenna arm unfold; then the dish turned slowly until it locked onto their spacecraft orbiting over the equator. Joanna reported that she had contacted the dome without difficulty.

“Vosnesensky says the news conference will start in another hour, if we can be ready by then,” she reported.

“No sweat,” said Connors.

Jamie grunted to himself. In fact, he was perspiring heavily inside his suit and was certain that Connors was too.

“You go in now,” the astronaut said to Jamie. “I’ll go around the other side and dig out one of the wheels, see if we can get away without digging out the others.”

“I can help.”

“Naw, it’s okay. This stuff is so fluffy you can blow it away with a whisk broom. If I need help I’ll ask you. Maybe we’ll
have a digging party after the media conference, all four of us.”

“You’re sure you’ll be okay out here?”

“I’m no hero, Jamie. If I need help I’ll yell, don’t worry.”

Reluctantly Jamie went back inside. It took much longer than usual to vacuum the dust off his suit. Leaving his helmet in the airlock, he tramped the length of the command module to the cockpit. Joanna was in the pilot’s seat, speaking into the display screen. Jamie recognized the face of Burt Klein, the American astronaut on
Mars 2.

Klein grinned at him. “You guys have your antenna back on track,” he said.

Jamie mumbled an acknowledgment, then turned to the voice link with Connors. “Everything’s fine. We’ve got
Mars 2
on the screen.”

“Great,” said Connors, puffing. “I’ve got our right front wheel almost cleared.”

Looking from Joanna’s tired face to Klein’s healthy unclouded image on the little display screen Jamie realized how sick the four of them must be. His skin’s almost pink, Jamie thought.

Dr. Li came on the screen and began giving instructions about the news conference that would begin within the hour. He asked Jamie to bring Connors inside before the conference started. Jamie checked his wristwatch against the digital clock on the cockpit control panel, then asked Joanna to take over the comm link. Klein came back on and Joanna chatted with him almost as if they were old friends discussing the weather.

Jamie saw that Joanna had put on a fresh set of coveralls, coral pink, and had applied makeup to her face. She’s trying to hide the pallor, he realized, trying to look good for the media. And for her father.

Making his way back toward the airlock in the bulky hard suit, Jamie passed Ilona. She sat on one of the benches, looking exhausted. She too had put on makeup and had even wrapped a bright flowered scarf around her coverall collar. But she still looked terribly pale and weak.

Jamie tried to be cheerful. “Ready to be famous?”

She smiled faintly. No amount of makeup could hide the strain in her face, the redness of her eyes. But maybe she could get past the cameras okay. The big story today is supposed
to be the discovery of life on Mars, not our physical condition.

The two-way transmission lag between Earth and Mars was now more than twenty-five minutes, so a live give-and-take interview was impossible. Instead, the media reporters and the mission controllers had worked out a different protocol. Twelve reporters had been selected from the swarms that had descended on Kaliningrad, Houston, Washington, and other capitals the instant the news of life on Mars had been released. Each of the twelve was in a different location on Earth. Each would ask a question, to be answered by one of the Mars explorers. There would be no follow-on questions. Alberto Brumado, in Washington, would fill in the time between question and answer with commentary and chat among the mission controllers, project administrators, and politicians assembled in Kaliningrad and elsewhere.

Many politicians had come to place themselves before the cameras, eager to bask in the glow of the great discovery and allow the world’s media to interview them on global TV.

Jamie wondered if Edith would be among the questioners. Not likely, he decided. She’s just started with the network; she’s not high enough on their ladder for this.

The two women sat in the cockpit seats, with Jamie and Connors standing behind them. The hour had barely been enough time for Connors to dig out one of the rover’s wheels and then drag himself back inside. He had taken off only the top half of his hard suit, and stood beside Jamie with his boots still on and his lily-white leggings spattered with red dust that exuded the stinging odor of ozone, despite his efforts to vacuum them clean.

Vosnesensky was at the comm screen in the dome, Dr. Li up in orbit. The people on Earth could speak with any of the units of the Mars expedition that they wished to converse with.

Brumado came on the screen before the conference officially began. He congratulated his daughter, and Joanna sent him a loving thank-you. Jamie was almost jealous of the warm smile she offered her father. When her message finally reached him Brumado gave no indication that he was shocked or even worried by his daughter’s appearance; she
had put up a smiling front without once mentioning their physical condition.

He’s probably too excited to even notice, Jamie thought. Maybe we’re all too worked up about how lousy we feel. If it doesn’t show on television, how bad can it really be?

The order in which the reporters asked their questions had been picked at Random by the mission control mainframe computer in Kaliningrad. Everyone thought that was a fittingly scientific way to handle the problem of priority. The reporter selected to be first was Hong Kong’s foremost media personality, a strikingly beautiful woman with skin like porcelain and almond eyes that had inspired poetry.

“First, I wish to congratulate you on the most significant discovery in the history of the space age,” she said in flawless British English. Her voice was a silvery soprano; she almost sang out the words. “My question is: Which of you actually made the discovery, and how did you feel when you first realized that you had found life on Mars?”

Joanna turned doubtfully in the chair toward Ilona, sitting beside her. The face of the Hong Kong woman was replaced with Brumado’s, who would fill in the time until their response reached Kaliningrad. The sound volume automatically went down to a barely audible level.

“I can answer that,” Ilona said, forcing a smile. “Dr. Brumado was the first to realize that the forms she was examining in the microscope were alive. She is our biologist, and it is she who actually made the discovery.”

Joanna said, “Dr. Malater was with me. We were working together on the samples we had gathered that morning. I merely happened to be the first to examine them in the microscope, but we worked together on the collection and preparation of the samples. You would have to say that we discovered them together.”

Ilona took over again, her husky voice more than an octave lower than Joanna’s. “As for how we felt—it was the most exciting moment of my life. Better than sex.”

Pale as she was, Joanna flushed. “It was very thrilling,” she agreed. “I think that at the first moment neither of us could believe it. Then, when we finally convinced ourselves that it was real, that the specimen in the microscope was actually a life form, we looked at each other and could not say a word.”

“Which is very unusual for me,” Ilona blurted.

“We realized that this was one of the most momentous discoveries in the history of science. I felt … what is the word in English? Awed. Yes, that is right. It was an awesome moment Truly awesome.”

“I felt like dancing,” Ilona said.

Jamie added silently, But you were too tired and weak to try.

“We must all remember,” Joanna added, more seriously, “that it was not merely Dr. Malater and I who made this discovery. Dr. Waterman was the one who recognized that this rift valley would be the most likely place to find life. The other scientists and astronauts—without them we could never have reached this place. All the men and women of this great expedition, all the men and women supporting this mission back on Earth, they have each played their role in this discovery. We are a team, a team that reaches across more than two hundred million kilometers of space and embraces two worlds. Each of us has played an important part.”

Jamie said to himself, She’s her father’s daughter, all right. There’s a future for her in the politics of science.

The questions were mainly superficial. Connors was asked by a bored-looking Frenchman how it felt to be the only black man on Mars. The astronaut grinned a one-word answer: “Terrific!” But once the screen showed Brumado talking with one of the opportunistic politicians, Connors muttered, “Fucking pissant.”

When Jamie’s turn came he was asked by an American reporter how it felt to be vindicated in his battle to change the mission plan and make the traverse to the Grand Canyon.

Wishing that Edith had possessed the clout to make it to the news conference, suddenly lonely for the sight of her blonde cheerful smile, Jamie replied to the pinch-faced man: “There was never a battle. We had a mission plan, but it had been made up on Earth long before we got here. Fortunately, the mission controllers and the expedition commander, Dr. Li—as well as Cosmonaut Vosnesensky and my fellow scientists—all saw the wisdom of altering the plan so we could take advantage of what we found here on the ground. We had the flexibility to change the plan, to take advantage of new discoveries.”

Jamie realized that there was another tremendous advantage to being on Mars: the interviewers could not interrupt you. Nor could they stop you from going on at length and giving the complete answer that you wanted to give.

“Another thing,” he said, forgetting his tiredness for a moment. “It’s more than just simple lichen that we’ve discovered, life doesn’t exist in one species alone; we know that from Earth. There’s got to be a Martian ecology here, a chain of living organisms. Certainly there must be organisms that are lower down on the chain of life than the lichen we’ve found. But the interesting question is, are there organisms
higher
on the chain? Or were there such higher organisms at one time in the past?”

He glanced down at Joanna, who was smiling encouragement at him. Connors patted his shoulder.

“Here in this Grand Canyon we discovered a rock formation that might not be natural. It’s a long shot, of course, but there may have once been intelligent Martians. We have the opportunity—the responsibility, really—to come back to Mars with expeditions that are equipped to stay for much longer so they can tackle some of these questions.”

Jamie enjoyed seeing Brumado’s eyes sparkle when his little speech finally reached Earth.

The next reporter threw away his prepared question and asked, “Do you mean that there might have been intelligent creatures on Mars?” His eyes were wide with incredulity.

“Yes,” answered Jamie firmly. “Might have been. We don’t know if there actually were. The chances against seem very high, but—we just don’t know enough about Mars to say, one way or the other.”

The display screen picture broke up momentarily as every one of the reporters tried to get in a question about intelligent Martians. Brumado restored calm only by shouting over their voices the name of the next reporter picked by the computer.