Season of Passage, The (48 page)

represented the ship's portholes.

'She's coming up,' Mark said, his voice tense. 'They're braking, looking good.'

Suddenly tiny flares erupted on the sides of the Hawk. 'That's strange,' Mark muttered. 'They're firing their auxiliary rockets.' There was a pause.

'Friend! What is their velocity relative to us?'

[Forty miles an hour, Mark. Sixty-five miles an hour.]

'They're coming right toward me!' Mark cried. 'Friend, port side. Initiate burn on the D and E rockets.'

The Hawk seemed to swal ow the TV screen.

'More power!' Mark yel ed. 'They're going to...'

The screen turned to static. Then a frantic TV commentator at Mission Control broke in. Terry didn't listen to what he had to say. He was already on

the phone to Mission Control, trying to get through. But the line was busy. He ripped the phone out of the wal , threw it to the floor, and kicked it

across the room with his right foot. His big toe gave a loud crack and he realized he had probably broken it. What did it matter? What could

anything matter now? It was obvious the two spaceships had col ided.

Strapped in her seat, in the weightless control room of the Hawk, Lauren peered through the faceplate of her helmet at the ship's multidirectional

viewing screens. Mars was below, the sun above. The Nova was approaching from behind.

'Wake up, Gary,' she said. 'She's almost here.' The wine had helped Gary to his feet, but the rejuvenation had worn off. Gary had gone back to his

dreams of flowered meadows drifting in and out of consciousness. He looked at her with drowsy eyes, his dark hair floating straight out from his

head within his helmet. 'What did you say?' he asked.

'The Nova's coming. What should we do?'

He roused himself and studied his monitors. Then he pushed a button with his right hand and pointed at a luminous dial with the stump that had

been his left arm.

'I've saved a little fuel in our auxiliary thrusters to help straighten us out,' he said. 'Would you turn that dial ninety degrees counter-clockwise, Lori?'

She did so.

'Wait!' Gary yel ed, coming ful y awake.

Too late. The rockets began to fire.

'Not that one!' Gary shouted. 'I didn't mean that one.'

'What do I do?'

Gary tried to reach for a switch but forgot about his missing arm. It was only then Lauren remembered that he was left-handed.

'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'l have to wait and see what happens.' He glanced out the porthole. The Nova was looking awful y big, awful y quick.

'What's happening?' she cried.

'We just gave ourselves a boost in the wrong direction. Let's hope Mark's on his toes. God, it looks like we're going to col ide. 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 ship and a high grinding noise ripped beneath their chairs, down in the basement.

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 scraps of metal. One big piece of equipment was no longer attached to

the mother ship.

'We tore off the antenna dish!' Lauren exclaimed.

'Let's count ourselves fortunate,' Gary said. 'Another few feet and both ships would have exploded.' He chuckled. 'I bet Mark's radio isn't working

worth a damn now. Here we go again.'

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

'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 Bil couldn't complain about me now.' He yawned. 'But don't worry. We'l see Mark again, as

soon as he can swing back around.'

Lauren was not sure how much time passed 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 cal ed 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

ships. Lauren unbuckled her straps and floated down through the living area and into the basement. She removed her helmet.

Mark had already pumped atmosphere into their lock. Lauren just had to push the right button. 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 swal owed, bent over. 'It's a long story.'

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

'I'm al right, Mark, real y 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. Bil 's dead.' She added bitterly, 'So is the last Russian.'

Mark turned pale. 'Al of them?'

'The planet kil ed 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 stil . 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

fol owed 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 al the lights off. He even considered returning the Nova to the Gorbachev, to see if maybe Carl was alive, after al . 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 il . 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 eventual y 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 Bil , but of

course they had biased opinions. They just hoped the president didn't order them blown up in space. 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 space. 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 wel ; to wake mil ions of miles away with the soothing blue and white of Earth hanging in

space instead of the hateful red of Mars.

Mark refused to get into his hibernaculum until Gary was wel on his way to sleepyland. Together Lauren and Mark sat and chatted with him as his

heartbeat slowly decreased. Gary was stil set on the idea of surfing in Tahiti when they got home. His last words were of green waves and cocoa

butter 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 cal your Mommy and have

her read you a bedtime story?'

'We can't cal 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 pass 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, ful 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. 'Tel me. It can't be that bad.'

His voice was ful 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 tel 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 al 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.