“Mission protocol—”
“Screw protocol. This is important.”
“So’s getting back alive.”
“I’m not going to die here. I’ll go down maybe fifty meters, tops. Got to take samples from different spots.”
“Viktor said—”
“Just go get the tanks.”
He looked unhappy. “You’re not going far, are you?”
“No.”
“Okay then. I’ll lower them down to the first ledge if you’ll come back that far to pick them up. Then I’ll come down too.”
“Okay, sounds fine. Let’s move.”
He turned around and started hauling himself up the steep wall. “Thirty minutes, then, at the first ledge.”
“Yeah, fine.”
“Julia…”
“See you in thirty minutes,” she said brightly, already moving away.
Into utter darkness. Marc’s helmet light receded quickly. The slope below was easy and she inched down along a narrow shelf. Paying out the cable took her attention. Methodical, careful, that’s the ticket. Especially if you’re risking your neck deep in a gloomy hole on an alien world.
Despite the risks, she felt a curious lightness of spirit—she was free. Free on Mars. Maybe for the last time. Free to explore what was undoubtedly the greatest puzzle of her scientific life. She couldn’t be cautious now.
Her brother Bill flashed into her mind. Marc reminded her of him, but was much more wary. Bill had taken life at a furious pace, cramming each day full, exuding boundless energy. They went on exploring trips together as children, later as nascent biologists. He was unstoppable: up and out early, roaming well after dark. There was never enough time in the day for everything he wanted to see. “Slow down, there’s always tomorrow,” people would tell him.
But his internal clock had served him well, in a way. He was cut down at age twenty-two when his motorcycle slid into a truck one rainy night when sensible people were home, warm and dry. Looking around the church at his funeral, Julia felt he’d lived more than most of the middle-aged mourners. Bill would’ve approved of her right now, she was sure.
A flicker from her handbeam brought her back. She looked down, shook it. The beam brightened again. Damn, not now.
“Marc! Bring some batteries, too. My handbeam’s getting feeble.”
A long pause. Had he heard? She relied upon the signal going up the thin wire in her monofilament cable, then getting rebroadcast from the rover to him. A useful backup for times like this, when they were out of line of sight. But did the connection still hold, after 500 days exposed to the brutal weathering here?
“Yeah, copy. Had to get up that last long climb.”
“Easy does it.”
The harness and yoke under her arms was making it impossible to move around. She wrestled it off and held it in one hand while she worked her way around a protrusion. It felt good not to be tied up. She was getting the knack of moving down here. Slow, steady, letting her eyes pick out telling details.
The mat was thicker here, as she’d guessed it would be closer to the elusive source.
She landed on a wide ledge and moved briskly across it, mindful of time passing. The floor was slippery with Marsmat but rough enough so she could find footing. Sorry, she said silently to the mat, but I’ve got to step on you.
Her handbeam flickered again, died. She shook it, leaned forward to look at it with the headlamp, then felt a sudden hard blow to her forehead.
The lamp went out.
She fell backwards. It was like a dream, plenty of time but nothing to grab.
Slow-motion, into the Martian darkness.
19
JANUARY 19, 2018
SHE BECAME AWARE OF A FAINT TINNY CONVERSATION INTERSPERSED with crackles.
Ghost voices…sounded like…she concentrated… Viktor…and Marc.
Of course! It was her suit comm. How dopey of her not to recognize them right away! Now what were they saying? Something about Airbus and a landing. More crackles. She was too far underground to hear clearly. She gave up. Marc would tell her later.
She lay there, waiting for the surprise to go away, automatically checking her suit readouts. All normal, no damage. She’d dropped the handbeam in the fall. Must’ve run into an overhang. Utter pitch dark.
Where was her damned handbeam? There was a faint glow to her left. That must be it.
She started to get up, noticed a feeble luminescence ahead of her. Confused, she sat back down. Take this carefully.
All around her, the walls were developing a pale ivory radiance.
She closed her eyes, opened them again. The glow was still there.
