The Season Of Passage Part 40

'Lori, push that switch down,' he said. He cursed and tried to undo his belt, but with only one hand, and in his hurry, the task became hopelessly complicated. 'No! The other one, yeah. No, wait!' He studied his instruments for a moment. Then he sighed, and spoke in a softer tone. 'It's too late, it's done. We'll have to wait and see what happens.' He glanced out the porthole. The Nova was looking awfully big, awfully quick.

'What's happening?' she cried.

'We just gave ourselves a boost in the wrong direction. Let's hope Mark's on his toes. G.o.d, it looks like we're going to collide. Close the portholes, Lori.'

She did as she was told. It only made matters worse, as far as she was concerned. The unseen threat was always more terrifying. 'Is there nothing we can do?' she asked.

Gary appeared remarkably cool. 'Brace yourself and pray we don't explode.'

The seconds crawled by. Five, ten - each as long as a half dozen of her pounding heartbeats. Then a cruel jolt shook the s.h.i.+p and a high grinding noise ripped beneath their chairs, down in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Their lights died. The blue emergency lamps flickered on a moment later and turned the Hawk's control room into a ghastly lagoon of confusion.

'Open the portholes,' Gary said calmly.

Lauren did as she was told. The Nova receded below them trailing twisted sc.r.a.ps of metal. One big piece of equipment was no longer attached to the mother s.h.i.+p.

'We tore off the antenna dis.h.!.+' Lauren exclaimed.

'Let's count ourselves fortunate,' Gary said. 'Another few feet and both s.h.i.+ps would have exploded.' He chuckled. 'I bet Mark's radio isn't working worth a d.a.m.n now. Here we go again.'

'Do you think we damaged the Nova's hull?'

'It's hard to say for sure. Let's hope not.'

'It was my fault. I twisted the wrong dial. I was careless.'

'You're always blaming yourself, Lori,' Gary said, closing his eyes again. 'You must have a guilt complex. No, it was my fault. I'm just used to doing these things myself.' He smiled to himself. 'I guess old Bill couldn't complain about me now.' He yawned. 'But don't worry. We'll see Mark again, as soon as he can swing back around.'

Lauren was not sure how much time pa.s.sed before Mark was able to maneuver into docking position again, for she spent most of that time asleep. She awoke only when the Nova's heavy clamps hinged onto the Hawk. Lauren's thirst and pain was almost washed away in the joy of that moment. She called to Gary, but he didn't respond. He snored loudly inside his helmet. She thought of Mark. With the Hawk secure, he would be leaving the Nova's control room and heading for the airlock that connected the two s.h.i.+ps. Lauren unbuckled her straps and floated down through the living area and into the bas.e.m.e.nt. She removed her helmet.

Mark had already pumped atmosphere into their lock. Lauren just had to push the right b.u.t.ton. The door swished open and a blast of fresh air hit her faceplate. She knew it was fresh even before she tore off her helmet, because it didn't have the stink of Mars in it.

Mark waited on the other side of the door in midair. He was grinning from head to toe. 'Lauren!'

'Mark!'

He hugged her. Of course, he didn't know about her broken ribs, and when she cried out he moved back.

'What happened?' Mark asked. He studied her closer and his pleased expression turned to one of shock. 'You look sick. What's the matter with your side?'

She swallowed, bent over. 'It's a long story.'

He was distressed. 'Your lips are all cracked and bleeding.'

'I'm all right, Mark, really I am. It's Gary who needs our help.' Lauren straightened herself. He didn't know, how could he know? Mark glanced in the direction of the Hawk's control room.

'Is he injured?' he asked.

She hesitated. 'Yes.'

He was perceptive. 'Is he the only one? Has something happened to Jim?'

'Jim's dead.'

'Dead?' His tears were immediate. Jim had been like a father to Mark. 'How did he die?'

'I can't say right now. Jessie's dead. Bill's dead.' She added bitterly, 'So is the last Russian.'

Mark turned pale. 'All of them?'

'The planet killed them. It's a horrible place.' She took his hands in hers. 'I'm thirsty, Mark. I need water. I need water like they needed blood.'

Mark carried Gary to Nova's sickbay. Gary didn't awake at first. It wasn't until she used the artery shunt on his remaining arm, and circulated his blood through the hibernaculum, and replenished his blood with liquids and electrolytes, that he regained consciousness. He was able to sit up and sip apple juice, but went back to sleep shortly afterwards.

Lauren's thirst got the better of her medical judgment. The first drink she took was too big and too quick, and she ended up vomiting. Afterwards, she contented herself with cautious sips. However, her thirst clung to her still. She wondered if it always would. The longing for water seemed burned into her brain.

When Gary was resting comfortably, she had Mark X-ray her side. The pictures were not pretty. She would need an operation when she got home.

Mark was anxious to know what had happened, but Lauren was too weak for a long speech. She encouraged him to talk instead, and his story followed lines familiar to hers.

While they were on Mars, he began to have trouble sleeping. He would awake more tired than when he went to bed, with vague memories of nightmares where lizard monsters chewed on his insides. When he lost contact with the Hawk, he had become frightened and wanted to leave. He'd been afraid he would end up like Carl. Yet, strangely enough, he began to identify with the dead Russian. He took to sleeping in the weightless hub, just floating around, with all the lights off. He even considered returning the Nova to the Gorbachev, to see if maybe Carl was alive, after all. He went so far as to start learning Russian from Friend so that he could have a conversation with the eyeless corpse. He stopped eating, but was bothered by an awful thirst, even though he drank to the point of making himself ill. He was also cold, and set the thermostat at a hundred degrees. He thought of suicide, and spent endless hours just staring at Mars. Once, when Houston spoke to him, he told them that he believed mankind was a mistaken product of a primordial ooze. That they were always going to be alone, and that their only hope of salvation lay in complete extinction. Houston was worried about him.

Mark finished his story on an uncertain note. Lauren had the impression he was holding something back. However, she didn't press him. She figured there were some details she'd just as soon not know.

Gary woke and Lauren rested, and eventually they told Mark their tales. Mark believed every word they said. Given what he had gone through, it wasn't too surprising. The question of contamination arose. Neither Gary nor Lauren felt they were carriers of what had infected Ivan and Bill, but of course they had biased opinions. They just hoped the president didn't order them blown up in s.p.a.ce. But they weren't worried about it. Gary remained firm about not bringing anything home from Mars. He ordered the soil samples from their first landing jettisoned into s.p.a.ce. No one argued with him.

Thirty hours after the Hawk had lifted off from the Tharsis plateau, Mark fired the Nova's main engines and threw them out of the Martian orbit toward home, over a year away. The roar of the rockets had scarcely ceased when Lauren began to prepare the hibernaculums. Neither Gary nor herself was near recovery, but the lower metabolism induced by the Antabolene had been found, in previous experiments, to aid in the healing process. Lauren was anxious to go under for psychological reasons as well; to wake millions of miles away with the soothing blue and white of Earth hanging in s.p.a.ce instead of the hateful red of Mars.

Mark refused to get into his hibernaculum until Gary was well on his way to sleepyland. Together Lauren and Mark sat and chatted with him as his heartbeat slowly decreased. Gary was still set on the idea of surfing in Tahiti when they got home. His last words were of green waves and cocoa b.u.t.ter and surfboard wax. Sure, Gary, Lauren said. Whatever you want. He would never be able to paddle without his left arm.

'Are you going to go to sleep now?' Lauren asked Mark as she closed Gary's hibernaculum. 'Or am I going to have to call your Mommy and have her read you a bedtime story?'

'We can't call Earth,' Mark said abruptly. 'The antenna's destroyed. We can't get any news from them, not now.'

'I know,' she said, taken aback by his seriousness. Mark began to fidget. He looked out the porthole at Mars, always at Mars. 'What is it, Mark?'

He spoke to the floor. 'When I was alone here, the radio did work. I used to pa.s.s the time reading the papers at home. You know how it's nice to read when you're alone.' His tone was apologetic. 'They would beam them to me as they came off the press.'

'That's fine,' Lauren said, full of foreboding. 'I would have done the same. Has anything exciting happened lately?'

His voice cracked. 'Nothing exciting.'

Lauren leaned over and put her hand on his shoulder. 'Tell me. It can't be that bad.'

His voice was full of pain. 'Once, one day, there was a picture of your sister on the front page of one of the newspapers. I can't remember what paper it was. But I knew it was her before I read the caption. It was that pretty picture you showed me once.'

Lauren said nothing.

'There was an accident,' Mark whispered.

'What kind of accident?'

'There was a fire. Someplace - a cabin in Wyoming. Your sister died in that fire, Lauren.'

Lauren sat back in her seat. She took a breath. She held it. Then she let it go and it came out of her body just like it always did. Only this time a part of her went out with the breath, into the air, and didn't come back. It was just gone.

'I see,' she said. 'Do you know when this happened?'

'The day after I lost contact with you guys. It was probably the day Jim died.' Mark broke down and cried. 'I wanted to tell you at first, but I couldn't. I just couldn't.'

'It was fine to wait,' Lauren said, her voice even, as even as a flat frozen lake. The universe was perverted; it spared her nothing. It threw her down in cold waters and held her head underneath. It never let her up. That was all right, though, even if it wasn't fair. It was just fine. The water would freeze and she would stay underneath where there was nothing. She wanted to feel nothing, to be nothing. 'Was anyone else hurt in the fire?' she asked. 'Was Terry hurt?'

'No.'

Terry had always been amazed at how Jennifer could wave her hands slowly through fire, and never get burned. 'I'm glad,' she said.

Tears ran down Mark's face, poor sensitive Mark, who blushed at Gary's dirty jokes and who had almost gone insane just looking at Mars. It was a good thing he hadn't landed on the planet. It would have done bad things to him.

'She was a beautiful child,' he said. 'I remember her from when your boyfriend took our picture. I remember her smile.'

'She had a nice smile,' Lauren agreed.

Mark looked up. 'Are you all right?'

Lauren closed her eyes. It was dark. That was fine, too. The cold and the dark went together. Mars had taught her that. 'I think I'll be all right,' she said softly. 'I think I'll miss her, though. I really think I will.'

Mark had been in his hibernaculum for two hours. Lauren was alone, as she had been on Mars when she had thought she was going to lose Gary. But even then she'd had her daydreams, of all the wonderful things she was going to do with Jennifer when she got home, the places they would go, the talks they would have.

The Nova was quiet now, and peaceful. Most of the lights were off. Lauren sat by a porthole with the stars. Astronomy had never been a big interest of hers, not as it was with many astronauts. She knew little of the constellations. But Jennifer had known all the Greek and Roman myths, all the stories about the heavenly G.o.ds. She even used to wish on falling stars. But what wishes she made, Lauren never knew, for Jennifer said they had to be kept secret to become magical. Lauren hoped some of Jennifer's wishes had come true before she died.

A tear fell from Lauren's cheek and landed on her s.h.i.+rt. Jennifer had killed herself. Mark hadn't told her that, But the papers she had called up from Friend's memory - why, to them it was big news. They had all kinds of theories, too, as to why.

Why, G.o.d? Or is it, why not?

The stars were beautiful, Lauren thought. She promised herself to pay more attention to them in the future. She also promised herself to read the story Jennifer had been working on. Terry had told her about it before their communications had been interrupted.

The monster gave me two alternatives: die or be worse than dead.

But was there a third? Was there a reason, for anything?

Lauren took the silver ring and for the first time placed it on her finger. She needed love. She needed Terry. He would be blaming himself for what had happened. If she could get a word to him, one word, it would do so much for him, and her.

Lauren stood and went to Jim's personal locker. Taking a pen and a piece of paper, she began a letter: Dear Terry, I need to talk to you, but you're far away and the radio's broken. I thought if I wrote this letter, though, you would know how I felt. My thoughts would cross s.p.a.ce, and you would hear me in that silent place inside where you listen for inspiration for your stories. I want to inspire you. I want to tell you beautiful things. But it's hard right now.

I know Jenny's dead. I know both of us feel like dying. But we can't do that. Mars taught me that much. You see, Terry, there are things on Mars...

After Lauren had finished her letter, she took an envelope from Jim's locker - only Jim would have thought he could mail a letter from another planet - and carefully sealed her note inside. She wrote on the outside, simply: Terry.

Then Lauren returned to the porthole and looked at the stars for a long time.

THIRTY-TWO.

Lauren lay in her hibernaculum, waiting to fall asleep. Two tubes fastened to her artery shunt, circulating blood from her left arm through the filtration system and feeding the Antabolene into her system. Already she felt drowsy. Soon she would black out, and forget everything. At her order, Friend had turned off the lights, and now only the faint glow of the Nova's controls lit the dark s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p. Above her, green lines traced across the physiological monitors, well within the proper parameters. Gary and Mark were both doing well. There was nothing left to worry about.

'Goodnight, Friend,' she said.

[Goodnight, Lori.]

Yet Lauren was suddenly troubled.

'Goodnight, Friend,' she repeated.

[Goodnight, Lauren.]

Strange, but Lauren could have sworn Friend had addressed her as Lori a moment ago. That was impossible, of course, unless the computer had undergone a change in program. She was just being paranoid.

Goodnight, Lori.

Then again, the Hawk's computer banks were now integrated with the Nova's, and wasn't it true that they were now one and the same unit? Lauren had been worried about the computer earlier, when they had redocked with the Nova. She'd had Mark examine the programming, and he had reported that he found no tampering. But if he was using a tampered computer itself to look for tampering, would he have found it? A fascinating question, to be sure.

Lauren decided once more she was being silly. One computer could not possess another.

Yet her disquiet remained. Bill had been an expert in computer design, and he had spent hours fooling with the Hawk's computer. And Bill had been a f.u.c.king Martian.

'Goodnight, Friend,' Lauren said.

[Goodnight, Lauren.]

'Friend, why did you call me Lori a moment ago?'

[I did not, Lauren.]

'I'm sure you did.'

[I did not, Lauren.]

'I must have heard wrong.'

[Yes, Lauren.]

All that time Bill had spent in the Hawk's control room bothered her...

Despite all their hards.h.i.+ps, she and Gary had escaped from the planet fairly easily. Why hadn't Bill put an overriding program on the Hawk's controls that only he could unlock? Since Mars had got to him, Bill had been very clever. A clever intelligence would have taken precautions. It was true Gary had explained that Bill hadn't sabotaged the controls because he needed them for his own evil purposes, but that didn't make sense. She had only believed Gary's explanation because she had wanted to believe it.