Aurora (21 page)

She hoped that humankind would not abuse the trust of the Martian god—that this time life would be welcome to stay as long as it wished.

But then again, she thought tiredly, perhaps she was just feverish.

She slept.

* * * *

When she awoke, the lower slopes of Uranius were almost lost in purple-grey shadow, but its peak glowed a deceptively warm rose color. Lundquist stood over her.

“If you feel up to it, you can move into the Igloo now,” he said. “No problem if you'd rather not—you can stay here if you'd prefer.”

“I'll move. I think I'm feeling a bit better. I'd feel better still with some company.”

With his assistance she descended the ladder to the ground and picked her way over pillowy but crusty pahoehoe-type lava, reminding her again of Kilauea in Hawaii. The rocks sparkled in the light from the helmet lamps as though wet. Although huge, Uranius was tiny compared with Olympus Mons—a more manageable size for the human eye to encompass in its field of view. Only the tip of its peak, as the Sun set, still glowed a rusty magenta. The yellow lamp over the Hut's airlock entrance welcomed them in.

Inside, the team was preparing once more to watch the alien “movie”—such an inadequate description, thought Aurora. It was a holistic experience. Earth had sent enhancements and enlargements of certain sections, comments and suggestions, principally so that the team could explore and excavate various areas. Rather grudgingly, the experts on Earth had even suggested that Beaumont might care to dowse over various carefully marked spots.

He couldn't hide his delight. “At long last the scientific establishment has been forced to accept publicly that the human mind does possess powers that can't be duplicated by technology!” he pontificated gleefully.

Whether the public was aware of his claim or not, it had been enraptured by the pictures of the ship's launch from Arsia Base, as it was now known. During the initial landing only an expanding view of craters, rocks, and sand had been visible. Earth's populace now waited with barely controlled anticipation for the discoveries they confidently expected to be forthcoming.

The big viewscreen came to life with the initial view of the double city. There was no mistaking the similarity with the landscape outside, but Aurora felt a sense of disappointment. This image was flat and colorless compared with the totally lifelike and all-encompassing reality of the version they had watched in the alien craft's cabin. She tried to concentrate on what her friends were saying.

“...and we're looking due south here,” said Verdet. “See? There's Tharsis Tholus, and over to the right is Ascraeus Mons. But they're both blue and misty-looking in the picture, which is why we didn't recognize them before. And the impact craters of Uranius Patera and Fesenkov are almost hidden by vegetation. You can only see them when you know they're there.”

“There's water in Fesenkov crater,” pointed out Beaumont.

“Yes. It looks like a big lake.”

Aurora found herself dozing again. She tried to pay attention to the discussion. Had someone just asked her a question? She didn't seem to have the energy to keep herself awake.

* * * *

Robert bent over the recumbent form of Aurora, looking grim. Her eyes, once such a wonderful violet color, were bloodshot from burst capillaries. Her golden hair had faded and become ragged, now looking more like straw. Her skin, always pale, had taken on a grey sheen, and had even begun to flake. The rest of the crew, standing in a silent group, looked over at them. Lundquist shook his head.

“I can do nothing for her,” he said. “I'm sorry.”

A NEW LIFE

Once again, Aurora woke in her cot. She got up, feeling nauseous, and walked unsteadily to the bathroom. Only just in time. She vomited into the toilet bowl.

When she came out she saw Lundquist standing there with his eyes on her. “I want to give you a proper check-up.” His voice was somber.

“But I feel fine now. Really I do!” she said brightly.

“You've just thrown up, haven't you?”

“Damn these thin walls. Is there no privacy! Yes, I did. But I feel better for it.”

“Come on, lie down. This won't take long.”

But the examination was thorough, including a blood count, body scan, and other tests. Throughout it, Aurora was watching his expression. It remained concerned, but after a while it became puzzled as well.

“I'll need a urine sample,” he finally said.

“But....”

“I think I already know the result, though.”

“It—it's the radiation, isn't it?”

“Radiation? Oh, no. That's a separate issue. You're pregnant,” he said matter-of-factly.

Aurora gulped. Had he handed her a sentence of death from leukemia, she would have been much less shocked, in the circumstances.

“You—you
what
?”

“You heard me quite well the first time. You did say you'd had your Pregnil shots before you left, didn't you?”

“Yes. I did. I was due for a booster quite soon, though. I told you. But—how am I doing apart from that?”

“Oh, you're absolutely fine. Your blood-cell count is quite normal now, though it was down a couple of days ago. The problem seems to be that your body's self-protection system, however it works, seems to have objected to the intrusion of the birth-control hormone, too, and countered it. You've never been pregnant before?”

“No, of course not. I—never intended to be, ever.”

To Aurora's surprise, he began to laugh.

“What the...?” she began.

“Even if you weren't on Mars, and hadn't performed all those miracles already, you would make the news now,” he said. “Eighty-eight-year-old woman to have baby! Can you imagine the field day they'd have?”

“Eighty-nine by the time I have it,” said Aurora.

He sobered quickly. “You
can't
have it, of course.”

“Oh yes, I can. And I'm going to.”

“Now come on, Aurora. You must see that there's no way I could permit that.”

“‘Permit'? What are you going to do? Perform an abortion against my will?”

“Let's stop this, shall we? I don't want to fight with you. But you must see how impossible it would be. We'll talk about it again later, when you've had time to see reason.”

“We can talk all you like. But I'm not going to change my mind. I may be a crazy old woman, but my first baby will have been conceived on Mars.”

“Hmm. We'll see about that. Meanwhile, I suggest that we keep this between the two of us—right?”

“Sure.”

The concertinaed curtain which served as a door to the comm desk parted, and Vitali Orlov strode in. “Sorry, but you said it yourself—the walls in this place are thin. And you were raising your voices rather. I couldn't help overhearing.”

His gaze as he looked directly at Aurora was grim. “The doctor is right. Of
course
you can't remain pregnant. It must be your hormones talking!”

“I don't see why it's such a problem,” she hissed. “We're on Mars for another six weeks, right? Then there's a journey home of three months or so. So there'll be at least another three months after that before the baby is born. On Earth.”

Lundquist snorted. “It's easy to see you've had no experience of babies. They don't keep to that sort of exact schedule, you know! Suppose it arrived early? How would you cope then? Would you be willing to trust it to the rigors of an Earth-landing?”

“Don't be so melodramatic, Bob! You know as well as I do that there's nothing particularly hazardous about transferring from the ship to a shuttle and landing on Earth. If anything went really wrong, whether the child was inside or outside my body would be the last of the worries.”

Orlov said dryly: “There is the small matter of a spacesuit. We don't happen to have any in stock in junior sizes....”

“Now you're just making up objections. The combined science of Earth's nations isn't capable of solving a little problem like that?” She smiled. “Come to think of it, I've already solved it. If it did become necessary—and I really don't think it will; I have pretty good control over my body, as you've seen—we could use the baby's capsule from the alien ship. It's custom-made!”

“You've thought of everything, haven't you?” said Orlov sourly. She knew him well enough the twinkle in his eye. With his strong religious convictions he had probably been unhappy about the notion of her having an abortion, even while his intellect ruled that such a measure was necessary.

“Maybe. But in any case, I think the father should have some say in this, don't you? I'd like to talk to him tonight. Alone.”

“OK. 'Til tonight then, Mum's the word!” said Robert.

* * * *

Bryan's face went through a whole gamut of expressions and emotions. Finally he exploded.

“You've already told Bob and Vitali about this, and now you've finally decided to tell me!” he said fiercely. Didn't you think I had the right to know about this first? I mean, I assume I
am
the father....”

For a moment it looked as though Aurora was going to fight, but then her face softened. “Don't be silly, Bryan—of course you are! Look, I didn't plan for this, and in theory it couldn't have happened; but it has. Something to do with my—oh, I don't know, biochemistry or physiology or something.

“Bob had to know, because he's the doctor, And Vitali is our leader. You do understand, don't you?” Her face was almost pleading.

Bryan's puckered with thought as he realized the implications and complications of this new situation. “But anyway, you couldn't—I mean,
we
couldn't risk it,” he said. “After all, we can always try again when we get back to Earth. Couldn't we?” he added hopefully, watching her face.

“I've already been through all the arguments with Bob and Vitali,” she said determinedly. “You won't talk me out of it.”

She explained about the time factor, and about the capsule.

“Our baby will have been conceived on Mars,” she said again. “I never had any intention of having children, but this one I
am
going to have. And that's final.”

And so, it seemed, it was. Verdet seemed pleased, and Minako did not seem to care one way or another. Was the woman jealous? wondered Aurora. They then had to go through the whole routine with Mission Control, who were appalled by the idea. But there was not really much the people back on Earth could do at that distance except make noises.

Mission Control did insist, however, that this time the public not be told. Beaumont, red to the tips of his ears, agreed that he would not be an informant this time.

* * * *

The Sun was still behind the bulk of Uranius when they set out in the rovers next morning. The volcano's long shadow stretched across the plain, a luminous blue-grey, but to north and south the lava fields glowed a warm orange. Also to the south, the striated slopes of Ceraunius reared above the horizon, the mountain's peak blazing in the early sunlight.

The going was rough, and the rovers had to weave their way around grotesquely shaped outcrops of lava or make wide detours to avoid deep crevasses. At last they found themselves on a relatively gentle incline as they climbed the flank of Uranius to reach the first site marked out for them by Mission Control.

“Time for a break, I think, before we start exploring,” said Orlov over the intercom, his voice sounding in both cabins.

The tempting odors of coffee and soup filled the little cabins as the seals were broken on self-heating cans. By the time the gull's-wing hatches were swung upwards the edge of the Sun was peering over the lip of the caldera, and the spongy-looking lava flows around them were highlighted with gold. Below was a wasteland of iron–grey and rust, the conical shadow of their mountain clearly defined.

Robert had, to no one's real surprise, given Aurora, along with the rest of the team, a clean bill of health. Now they all spread out over the slopes, taking samples, drilling cores, setting up instruments and making measurements. It was arduous and exhausting work in their Mars suits, but they were all glad to be able to perform useful field work again.

Having completed his program of “official” tasks, Beaumont produced his dowsing rods and began walking back and forth over a prepared area. After a while, having finished up her own allotted experiments, Aurora joined him, attaching the lead which enabled them to have a private conversation between suits without using the radio.

“Having any luck?”

“This is great!” he said enthusiastically. “I was thinking earlier how amazing it would be to work on Olympus Mons but, you know, this is better in a way. Uranius is more—familiar, somehow. Accessible, if you like. You can tell you're on a volcano, whereas on Olympus I'm sure you wouldn't be able to see the wood for the trees. It's too big. Know what I mean?”

“I do. I think we should try to reach the peak—where that sort of glass bubble, dome, was in the movie. If that really was Mars.”

“You don't think it was?”

“I can't make up my mind. I mean, how
could
it be? I agree that the physical features seem to match up, and yet....” She shook her head in exasperation, her blonde hair swinging loosely inside her helmet. “I'm sure I should
know
. Anyway, how's the dowsing coming along?”

“It isn't. I had one false alarm—thought I'd found metal, but it seems to be only a nodule of iron oxide. There's nothing interesting down there. I'm sure of it.”

“I'm afraid I think the same. I haven't found anything with my instruments either, other than what I'd expect, geologically. Disappointing, isn't it? We were so sure we'd find real archaeological evidence of that city. Or at least something to show it had been here.”

“Never mind. We try a new site tomorrow.”

“Yeah. S'pose so.”

* * * *

The atmosphere in the Igloo that evening was quiet, even somewhat depressed. None of the team had found anything of other than geological interest, and, while a few months ago that was all they would have expected, now it was a let-down.

“The lava is more fluid than I would have predicted,” said Minako.

Beaumont and Aurora nodded bored agreement.

Verdet expressed their feelings when he burst out: “Goddamit! You would have thought we'd find
something
down there! Not near the surface, of course. But how could all that, that whole civilization, just vanish without trace?”

Lundquist found an opportunity to take Aurora aside. “I still wish you'd let me terminate your pregnancy while it's at an early stage,” he said. “I accept your arguments for yourself—your health and so on—but I'm thinking of the baby. The fact remains that you took a dose of over two thousand rem, and even if
your
body could cope with that—well, whatever
you
are, the father is human. There's no knowing what sort of effect the radiation might have had on the genetic material of the fetus. And right at the most susceptible time, too.”

“Whatever else I am, I'm human too. I'm pregnant by a human father. What more proof could you need? As a doctor, I'm sure you'd be the last person to believe those science fiction stories in which disguised alien lizards impregnate humans!”

“That doesn't alter my point.”

“The point is that the baby is mine, it's inside my body and building itself from my tissues.” Her face softened. “Bob, I do take your point, and I know you're only thinking of my interests. But it
will
be all right, you'll see. Trust me!

“Look, you'll be monitoring my progress, won't you?” she continued. “You could tell from a scan if there was any physical deformity, couldn't you? And I'm sure there are lots more tests you can do. If there's any sign of abnormality, we'll talk again. I promise.”

Robert sighed. “I didn't come on this expedition geared up to hold a pre-natal clinic,” he said. “But, yes, I expect I can modify some of my equipment. You win. As usual....”