They walked for another kilometer before he pointed out a boulder that they could sit behind. They huddled close together and listened to the sound of their breathing as they considered the remaining distance. Komarov kept a close eye on the time; he was going to allow five minutes, no more. He did not like being on the surface during the storm. He wondered if everyone would make it to the lander alive. Now that they only had four hundred meters left, he felt reasonably certain that they would. He inspected his suit for damage. There was none that he could see. Then he got up and inspected Tatiana’s and Satomura’s suits. They sat exhausted as he scanned their visors for damage. The two suits appeared to be in good condition. He told them to keep their tarps tightly wrapped, then sat back down and watched the time. The sooner they were inside the lander, the better. He wondered how long they would have to wait for the winds to die down so that they could launch. He almost wished that Carter had not made the attempt. At five minutes precisely, he stood back up.
They had traveled less than fifty meters when Komarov felt a sharp tug against the rope that was tied around his waist. The tug pulled him back several steps. He turned around to investigate what had happened, and saw only Satomura. He looked down at his feet and found Tatiana lying on the surface, her limbs flung outward.
“Help me,” Komarov said.
They bent down and picked her up. She offered some assistance but not enough for them to step back and let her stand on her own. Komarov pressed up against her visor. Her eyes were glassy. Her head rolled forward and snapped back.
“I lost my footing,” she said.
“We’ll have to hold up until she recovers.”
They guided her to a boulder and sat her down in the shelter behind it. Komarov cursed his luck. He realized he was pushing them too hard. They were only a few hundred meters away. He could ease the pace. He studied her closely as he talked to her. She seemed more angry with herself than anything else, and kept insisting that she was fine. Ten minutes passed before Komarov decided that they could continue. He shortened the rope between them.
“Hold on to me if you have to,” Komarov said.
They had regained much of their strength and were eager to continue. Visibility had improved considerably. They could see nearly forty meters, and the sky, still dark, had lightened. This filled them with hope. They made their way across the broken surface at a hurried pace, pressed by the knowledge that the lull in the storm was only temporary. With each step they felt their chances of reaching the lander improved. They engaged in light bantering as they walked. At ninety meters from the lander, they came to an abrupt halt. At their feet there was a crevice that sank into the planet’s surface and stretched as far as they could see in either direction. They could barely make out the rocky surface at the far end. The winds were picking up strength.
“What is this?” Komarov demanded.
“A runoff channel,” said Satomura, stepping perilously close to the edge to look down into its interior. It was only twenty meters deep, but the descent appeared too dangerous to attempt. He scanned the near wall.
“What are we to do?” Tatiana asked. There was a hint of panic in her voice, and this concerned Komarov because he already had enough to worry about.
“The rover was to go around,” Carter broke in.
“And where was the rover to go around?” Komarov asked. “About two and a half klicks up the north side.”
“That would take too long,” Komarov said, and stepped closer to the edge. “We’ll have to cross here.”
“Another location farther—” Satomura was interrupted by a powerful gust. The two men retreated several steps, their tarps flapping hard against the wind.
“Twenty meters north,” Satomura said, pointing. “It did not look as steep.”
“Are you sure?” Komarov asked. He stared into the storm, but saw only waves of red sand. A gust struck him from the rear and shoved him with unexpected force toward the gully. He managed to regain his footing within inches of the edge. He took several steps back and motioned the others to do the same.
“Twenty meters.” Without waiting for Komarov’s instruction, Satomura headed in the direction he had pointed. He leapt over a rock and disappeared into the storm. As the rope grew taut, Tatiana realized that she would have to follow. Surprised by Satomura’s impulsive act, she looked back at Komarov for guidance. He motioned for her to go.
They found Satomura on all fours looking over the edge of the gully.
“The channel may actually increase the velocity of the wind,” he said, glancing up at them.
Komarov peered over the edge and saw that the grade was indeed less steep, but he could only make out the first few meters. The rest was obscured by dust. “I’ll go first.” He dropped to his hands and knees and motioned Tatiana to do the same. He gripped the edge and lowered himself into the gully. The winds tugged at him, making the descent more difficult than it would have otherwise been. Twice he lost his grip and almost fell. His hands grew tired as he climbed down, and he wondered if Tatiana would be able to make it. When he reached the bottom he called for Tatiana to descend. The wind was much stronger, and he found that it helped to hold on to the rock wall to maintain his balance. He instructed Satomura to keep the rope taut. Several minutes later Tatiana was standing next to him. She appeared worn and tired, but eager. He assisted her to a low, flat boulder, where she lowered herself with a grateful sigh.
“We’re almost there,” he reassured her. She nodded to indicate she understood, but he had missed the gesture, for his flashlight was already pointing upward at the murky ceiling formed by the storm. “Any time you’re ready, Takashi.”
Moments later a pair of disembodied boots poked through the ceiling. Satomura proceeded down the gully wall at a quick, almost reckless pace. Breathing hard, he spotted the rock upon which Tatiana was sitting and made directly for it. He sat down next to her. The gully was obscured by fallout from the storm above.
Komarov tightened his grip on his tarp and stepped carefully to the far wall. His pace slackened with disbelief. The wall was nearly vertical, and as far as he could determine, it provided little in footholds or handholds. It would be impossible to scale without the proper climbing gear. He touched the wall as if to make certain it was real. It was smooth and flat, like a rock burnished by the sea. He stepped back from the wall and searched for a place to ascend. Certainly, he thought, there must be a way up. I will send Takashi north and myself south and leave Tatiana here. One of us will find a way. He turned to announce his plan to the others, but hesitated, surprised at how faint they appeared. The dust made it difficult to see anything beyond a meter.
“We will not be able to ascend here,” he said.
“Why not?” Tatiana demanded.
“The wall is too steep. There should be a place nearby. Al, anything on the maps?”
“Sorry, but the detail is not that good.” They could hear him tapping at the keyboard. “Hold on. There is a spot approximately four hundred meters north of you, but . . .”
“Yes?”
“To get there you’ll have to descend into some rather deep terrain.”
“How deep?”
“Forty-plus meters.”
“Impossible,” Komarov replied impatiently. “Anything else?” Several long seconds passed before Carter responded. “I think you’re boxed in.”
“What do you mean, boxed in?”
“It sinks rather deep on the south side also. You’ve got about sixty meters in either direction. After that it’s more or less impassable.”
“Takashi, I want you to go north. If you find a way up, announce your position and remain there. We’ll come to you. I’ll go south and do the same. Tanya, you stay here.”
“Certainly,” Takashi said, rising to his feet.
Komarov looked at Tatiana and with his eyes silently queried if she would be all right. She was grateful for the rest and waved him to go, smiling in case he misunderstood. He pressed her hand in his, then turned southward and disappeared.
The surface, to Komarov’s surprise, was relatively free of loose rocks. He supposed they had been washed away by the water that must have once flowed through the channel. He was able to concentrate on the wall, without having to look at the ground every few seconds, and managed to maintain a good pace. The wall, he noted, was uniformly steep and grew higher with nearly every step. The circles his flashlight formed became larger and less distinct. At approximately sixty meters, the point at which Carter had said he would be boxed in, the ground fell away completely. With the red dust drifting into the drop, he could not see more than a dozen meters beyond his feet. He took a step back, fearful that he might fall in. It looked as if it might lead to the molten core of the planet. He had traversed the entire passable length and had not found a point at which they could ascend. For a while he remained silent, waiting, listening for Satomura. Five minutes passed, and he knew Satomura must have reached the end of the northern stretch.
“Takashi, have you found anything?”
“Perhaps,” Satomura replied. “If only we had the proper gear.”
“Yes?” Komarov prompted him.
“I found a point where we could possibly ascend, approximately thirty meters north of Tatiana. Stripped of my space suit, I could reach the top by hand. The wall, from what I can make out, appears to stand about fifteen meters high. I’m not sure it can be scaled without gear. Have you found anything?”
“Nothing. It only gets worse.”
“This will have to do.”
“But you said—” Tatiana began.
“We’ll need assistance from above, of course,” Satomura interrupted. “Al, I assume, that would be you.”
“Ah, roger,” came the startled response. After several seconds had passed in silence, Carter asked Satomura to confirm his position.
W
ith a rope wound around his shoulder and several spikes tucked into his utility bag, Carter cursed lightly as a gust of wind struck him at the portal opening. He turned his back to the wind and descended the ladder. Upon reaching the rocky surface, a neon arrow appeared on his heads-up display, pointing in the direction of the stranded explorers. Visibility was less than a few meters. He could feel the sand striking the bottom half of his tarp. He surveyed what he could of his surroundings, then turned to secure the rope to the ladder.
The digits “87” were suspended just underneath the neon arrow. They represented the number of meters between him and the gully. He wanted to switch his visor to virtual mode, but the computer did not possess sufficient data to build a simulation. He walked at a quick pace, avoiding the boulders as they materialized in front of him. The wind felt like a light breeze, except for the occasional gusts, which pushed at him but did not cause him to lose his footing. When the numeral underneath the arrow reached “5,” he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled the remaining distance. He kept the rope taut as he poked his head over the edge. Through a thick haze of dust he saw three beams of light crisscrossing at the bottom of the gully.
“I have visual contact,” he said.
The beams lifted in unison and became bright circles. The light caused him to flinch.
“Can you point those damn lights somewhere else.”
“Of course,” Komarov replied, and the beams quickly turned away. “Have you secured the rope?”
“It is tied to the lander.”
“Good. Throw the other end down.”
Carter unwrapped the rope and tossed it out toward the center of the gully and watched as the wind caught it and threw it back against the wall, where it slid snakelike toward the three explorers. He fed more rope out and saw the lights converge upon a point, then felt a tug.
“I’ve got it,” Komarov said. “Tanya first.”
The lights became frantic. Carter assumed they were preparing Tatiana for the ascent. A moment later the rope grew taut. A light approached the gully wall as Tatiana announced that she was about to begin her climb. After a few minutes her space suit became more distinct. They could all hear her breathing as she struggled upward. At the halfway mark Komarov asked how she was doing. She stopped, gasped something in reply, then resumed her climb. Her helmet was less than a meter away when Carter reached out to grab her raised arm. She was kicking her legs as if the gully were filled with water. For a brief moment he thought that she might fall back in and kept pulling until she was on the ground next to him.
Carter was startled by Tatiana’s appearance. Her skin was damp and sallow, and her black hair was plastered to her face. He pointed in the direction of the lander, then at the rope that lay at her feet. She understood immediately and, picking up the rope, vanished behind a wave of dust. When Carter returned to the edge of the gully, Satomura was already making his ascent. A moment later they were shaking hands, and Carter, looking into Satomura’s visor, saw that he was exhausted, but grateful. They both reached down to pull Komarov up.
Carter extended his hand, but the cosmonaut knocked it aside and wrapped Carter in a large bear hug. The storm was howling around them. They would have stayed embraced longer had not Satomura broke in to remind them that they were not out of danger yet. As they pulled apart Carter saw a tear on Komarov’s cheek. The cosmonaut attempted to say thank you, but he was too choked up to speak. Carter could feel his emotions building. He had not expected this. It was almost over. They held each other at shoulder’s length.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Carter said.
The three Martian explorers grabbed the rope and made quickly for the lander.
T
he launch window grew irretrievably shorter as the seconds flickered briefly and disappeared. The thirty-minute mark had just passed. Their eyes returned to the weather map. The forecast module brought to life the dust that formed the local storm and moved it east to west across the chasma. The dust was divided by contoured lines, and in between the lines was a number that gave the wind speed. One hundred and two was the smallest number on the map, and that was well south of their position. They were inside a contour that indicated winds in excess of two hundred kilometers per hours, with gusts as high as four hundred. It was the gusts that concerned Carter. The lander was represented by a small yellow dot, and a dotted line extending in an arc from the lander plotted the intended trajectory. Carter was becoming more and more convinced that the storm was not going to relent.