She frowned. “Good question. Probably a concentration effect. Our tanks carry pure oxy, under pressure. Stuff we’re breathing here isn’t. And also, the piece that broke through looked awful rugged. Maybe it’s a specialized structure, with a nonporous skin, for exploring. That would let it tunnel through anything to get towards water.”
“That’s where it was headed?”
She snapped her fingers. “Of course! It grew towards the light, then vectored in on the seam, where water collects best and runs down to pool. The thing must have a water sensor that’s very selective.”
“So by pure bad luck, that’s the place where it could burrow through—tough little bugger!—and breach both the outside wall and the seal on the greenhouse.”
“Absolutely the worst luck,” she agreed. “On the other hand, we learned a lot from it.”
“You damn near learned how to push up daisies.”
“Ummmm, true. Look, that spike can defend against oxygen for at least a minute or so, or else it would’ve wilted. It only needed to hang on until all the air was gone from the greenhouse.”
“Yeah, but it’s going to scare a lot of people.”
“Ummm, right. Not me, though. A few minutes on Earth and all that life would be finger food for every microbe around.”
Marc shrugged good-naturedly. “So we’re caught, I figure. Airbus wants to beat us home and plenty of other people don’t want us back at all.”
She curled her lip. “So we consent to a quarantine after we land.”
“Maybe. Listen to this—”
He fast-forwarded and started the video again. “—some are saying the Airbus crew should prevent the launch of the ERV if it carries the slightest trace of this revolutionary discovery, a form of life unknown to Earth. Terming it ‘a dire threat to all Earth,’ PEPA spokeswoman—”
“Good grief!”
Marc grinned. “The price of fame.”
“No, the price of the unknown.”
“You ready to hear Axy-boy?”
“No. Viktor said he was leaning pretty heavily on the test.”
“The Consortium investors’ board has gotten into it pretty thick,” Marc said soberly. “Kinda funny, picturing a bunch of investment types poring over orbital mechanics tables.”
With a sinking feeling, she said, “Let me see.”
Axelrod looked both frazzled and energized. His tie was knotted too tight and his eyebrows kept jumping around like insects looking for some place to settle. He scowled with almost comic ferocity as he said, “Julia, this is just for you. You and me, we been through a lot, and I was never so proud as when I saw you making that run. What a woman!”
“Fast-forward,” she said.
As the tape sped Marc asked, “Sure you want me to hear this?”
“Sure. We can’t be keeping secrets from each other.”
Axelrod finished his praise with a flourish, leading a toast on camera from the Ground Control team. Then he said, “I want you to know that I’m covering for you here, to the hilt. I’ll take the blame for not releasing the news. We need a little statement from you, laying out how you were trying to get definitive word on just what this stuff is and so on. Maybe drop a little hint about your findings? Just an idea.”
“More ammo for PEPA, sure,” she said.
Axelrod frowned theatrically, a false note that put her on guard. “It’s a firestorm down here. Just catch the news, see how they’re playing it. Real live life on Mars—and dangerous, too—plus the race. I don’t mind the extra income we’re gettinbg from coverage, of course. We’re playing you as the heroine of it all. You were keeping the whole discovery under wraps until you could tell if it was any kind of threat, see. But there’s this panel of biologists, U.S. National Academy of Science and all. They’re saying you’ve been exposed now, touched that nasty thing that caused the accident.”
Axelrod paused, eyeing the camera as if he could see her.
Julia said, “They’re right.”
“—and so maybe you shouldn’t be sharing even the same air with the rest of the crew. So these Academy people say. In case you got something, and it”—he spread his hands helplessly—”well, it spreads.”
“Too late for that,” Marc said.
“As the National Academy knows,” she said.
“A minority report even said—now, don’t take this seriously, it’s just a bunch of lab guys, after all—that you shouldn’t come back.”
“What!” Julia sat up straight.
“That’s the kind of pressure flying around here, is what I’m saying.” Axelrod looked apologetic.
“Those plants are anaerobes,” Julia said hotly.
“Not that most people know what that means,” Marc said.
“That’s nonsense talk, of course,” Axelrod hurried on. “I’m gonna make a speech today, label these people for what they are. But we sure could use a statement back here from you. It would give the PR boys something to work with, to spin.”
“What the hell is going on down there? What are they afraid of?”
“The Creeping Unknown, 1955.”
