Dragon Dawn (Dinosaurian Time Travel) (13 page)

And all of this was happening in the next few days. Frowning thoughtfully, Dawn watched everyone file out of the safe room. She poured herself another cup of Russian Caravan tea, walked back to the viewing tunnel, and faced the window. After breathing in the heady aroma wafting from her mug, she closed her eyes – she could almost believe she smelled a camp fire. For some reason, she saw herself poking at embers with a stick, Gus sitting beside her. 

Dawn glanced over her shoulder, seeing no one, but feeling self-conscious just the same. She shook it off, however, knowing she had only a few moments for silent reflection before she would have to join the others. 

Taking a sip of tea, she observed Mars. Even after all these months in space, she still expected to see the ethereal blue, white, and soft browns of Earth. But instead, the barren Martian surface assaulted her eyes. Pale orange for the most part, the planet was dominated by endlessly sanguine hues. Actually, from orbit Mars looked more like a moldy tangerine, Dawn thought with a trace of amusement. 

But there was more down there, wasn’t there? So much more. 

She gazed at the rugged planet: at the great rift valleys streaked with rust; and at the leaden cones of towering volcanic peaks thrust high above the vermilion plains; at the dusty polar caps, with their strange, terraced, ellipsoidal tiers of frozen carbon dioxide and water; and, finally, at the shifting ocher sands abutting ancient, serpentine flood channels. The vibrant colors had parallels in a few areas on Earth, for here were hues as rich as the cinnabar sands of the Sahara, or the russet, bone-dry riverbeds of the Australian Outback. 

But unlike the predominant, yet fragile, milky blueness of Earth, almost everything on Mars was bold and ruddy. The planet seemed like an open wound in the universe, the ancient realm of the God of War.

Dawn drew a deep breath and exhaled. The rotation of the ship caused the scene to change, and gradually the extinct volcano, Olympus Mons, rolled into view. It was the largest mountain in the Solar System, comparable in size to the entire state of Arizona. 

And we’re going there
, Dawn thought. She pressed her forehead to the window, felt the soft vibration of the ship on her skin. Recalling her previous thoughts, she was struck again by the planet’s desolate landscape. But Mars had not always been so empty. There had been life there once, intelligent life. The Martian laser beam – which had emanated from the southern reaches of Olympus Mons – and the mines on Phobos were proof someone had lived on, or visited, the red planet long ago. 

It was the reason Dawn was making the journey. Years before, she would have laughed if anyone had predicted that an archeologist would travel to Mars. But after first contact in 2022, she’d raced to apply for the space program. 

And, despite the odds, she’d made it. At age twenty-eight she had begun her training. For seven years she prepared for the Mars expedition; from rigorous survival exercises in the jungle, tundra, and desert, to lessons on life science, astrophysics, atmospherics, and earth science, to learning how to fly the spacecraft in the unlikely event the pilots became incapacitated. A mission specialist now, she liked to joke with her friends, putting a new spin on the famous Star Trek phrase about boldly going “to Mars, where no archeologist has gone before.” 

But the knowledge of life on another planet – particularly of a neighboring world once visited by an alien civilization – always brought her back to sober reality. It meant long ago there had been other life-forms, including beings who could dream, hope, and plan for the future. It was considered the greatest scientific discovery of all time: life on Earth
was not a fluke; we were not alone in the universe.

Quietly, Dawn regarded the immense volcano, narrowing her eyes, imagining she could see into its interior. Who were the aliens who had constructed the laser beacon? What had happened to them? Or was someone down there still, waiting and watching, looking back at her now?

She dismissed the questions, particularly the last. After all, Earthlings had answered the beacon with messages of reply, but in the years since first contact no one had responded back. It was as if the alien message had been sent on auto-pilot. No one was “home,” if you could call it that. Just the other day, Gus had speculated about this, saying maybe the aliens on Mars had died off ages ago, or simply mined Phobos for rocket fuel, then up and left our solar system, perhaps before human beings had even evolved.

Once again, Dawn’s gaze fixed on the raw, rich flush of Mars. And then, she recalled how her Stroganoff ancestor had died. It was a bloody death, to steal his soul. 

She experienced another twinge of doubt, coupled with a curious sense of foreboding. What – or who – awaited her down there? What was going to happen next? 

The ship’s reverberations now sounded like a low growl, a warning.
Sheesh
, Dawn ordered herself.
You’re a scientist. Act like one and think logically.

But the question came back in a harrowing lament, a dark echoing in her mind.
What’s going to happen? What will happen next?

She took another mouthful from her mug and swallowed hard. 

Only time would tell.

Chapter 11

The great tide of civilization has long since ebbed,

Leaving these scattered wrecks on the solitary shore. 

Are these waters to flow again, bringing back the seeds of knowledge...? 

We wanderers were seeking what they had left behind,

As children gather up the coloured shells on the deserted sands.

~Austen Henry Layard

Two days after touchdown, the lander
Valiant
rested on the Martian surface one kilometer south of the volcano, Olympus Mons. The establishment of Percival Lowell Base was the top priority. Especially in the next few years, it would serve as a jumping off spot for all subsequent explorations of the red planet. 

But first, it was time for one stirring gesture. As Gus Granberg stood inside the ship’s airlock awaiting depressurization, Dawn looked through the inner window and focused on the virtual reality/telepresence headset affixed to his helmet. Through it, an estimated three billion people back on Earth would also participate in the first Mars walk on the new Pay-Per-View channel co-sponsored by NASA, the European Space Agency, and the North American Business Consortium. Now anyone with a VR set could hook in to the exploration of another world and help fund the space program.

Gus Granberg would be the first human to walk on Mars. As the crew waited for the go ahead from Houston, time seemed to crawl. Despite his helmet’s reflected glare, Dawn could just make out Gus’s face, his sober stare, and she immediately understood his mood. This was one for the history books. 

Her mind played back over the previous few hours. Right after touchdown, Gus tried to be his usual, disciplined self. But then, when he saw Dawn fiddling nervously with her own gear, he relaxed and let his guard down.

As he pulled on a glove, he asked her, “You think Neil and Buzz would’ve handled this better?” 

“By putting on their gloves, or taking the first steps on Mars?”

He smiled. “Smart mouth.”

She laughed. “At this moment, I’m sure every astronaut – past or present – wishes they were you.” She gave him a thumb’s up. “You’re going to do fine, Gus. You always do.”

“Not if I fall flat on my ass!”

The memory made her grin. Gus was a study in contrasts, professional and unflappable in tight situations, NASA’s golden fly-boy, yet he was also known for his irreverent sense of humor.

But now, it was obvious to Dawn the magnitude of the first step was really hitting him. She regarded the unprecedented solemnity in his expression, and her grin faded. He stood there, a ruggedly handsome, intelligent man of thirty-eight. Eric Gustav Granberg, the great-grandson of Swedish immigrants. Born in Boston, but raised in Houston. Master’s degree in aerospace engineering from the University of Texas. Former Navy pilot, then American astronaut. Boyhood dream of being the first man on Mars now, fantastically, coming true.

What must he be feeling?

Dawn knew everyone else in the Solar System believed that a thousand years from now, names such as Armstrong, Aldrin, and Granberg would be spoken in the same breath, with the same reverence. 

But Gus was in fact dismissive of such talk when it came to his legacy. The commander shot Dawn a nervous look, and she paused, studying his features. Would he ever be ready for such fame and adulation? 

The capcom’s voice crackled into her headset. “
Destiny
, this is Houston. You are go for Mars walk. Do you copy?”

“Yes, Houston, we copy,” Jean-Michel, who was still orbiting in the
Destiny
, enunciated the words precisely. He followed with a message of his own to the ground crew. “
Valiant
, this is
Destiny
. You are go for the Mars walk.”

“Roger that,
Destiny
,” came Gus’s reply.

“You are go,” Jean-Michel repeated. “Good luck, Commander.”  

“Thanks, pardner. Wish me luck.” 

Dawn smiled to herself, imagining Jean-Michel’s reaction. The prickly Frenchman disliked a lot of things, but Texas talk most of all. Yet she knew he would suffer it from Gus because they were friends.

Slowly, the hatch of the spacecraft opened. Gus moved forward until he stood in front of the door and then Dawn heard him murmur, “Well, here goes nothing.” 

***

Jeez, don’t fall
. Looking down the stairs, Gus took one careful step, then another. At one-third Earth’s gravity, the tug of Mars felt light, almost moonlike. He lowered his foot to the ground. Like a puff of magician’s smoke, the ruddy Martian dust drifted from beneath his boot. 

“I’m standing on Mars,” he said, aware his voice wavered with
emotion. He brought his other foot down and steadied himself. A pinkish haze lingered in the air. 

And Gus knew billions of other souls, all over the Earth, Moon, and asteroids, would soon be experiencing this moment, too. Twenty minutes from now. Billions.

But only one really mattered. Just one.

He looked back at the hatch and spotted Dawn staring through the airlock window. Her green eyes sparkled, her dark hair framing a sweetly pretty face. He felt a deep jolt to his gut. He wanted to do this right and make her proud. 

He turned away from the lander and glanced at the salmon-tinged sky. Taking a breath, he prepared to recite something he’d memorized when he learned he would be the first man on Mars. 

“We may mount from this dull Earth,” he began, quoting the seventeenth century astronomer Christiaan Huygens, “and viewing it from on high, consider whether Nature has laid out all her... finery upon this small speck of dirt.” 

Gus stared at the immense volcano, silent and brooding.

“We shall be less apt to admire what this world calls great... when we know that there are a multitude of such Earths inhabited and adorned as well as our own.”

***

What’s that old expression Grandpa uses? It blows my mind?
Dawn thought as she let her gaze roam over the landscape. 

She looked up, staring at a countryside caught in constant Alpenglow. In the shadow of a boulder, she lowered her gaze and spotted a trace of frost, pearl white against the rust-red soil. With the Martian daybreak came deposits of mixed frost composed of carbon dioxide and water, which settled on the ground and persisted in the shadows. 

In fact, there was water everywhere on Mars; in addition to vapor in the air, it had been found frozen as ice layers or permafrost beneath the ground and in the great, glacial stratum of the polar ice caps. Because of this life-giving abundance, someday, in the not too distant future, mankind would start to terraform Mars. It could take hundreds or thousands of years, but eventually humans might be able to throw away their spacesuits, to breathe Martian air and drink Martian water, and feel sunshine on their skin once more. 

And Dawn was part of the first group of explorers here.
Gramps is right
, she thought.
This really
is
a mind blower
.

She took a seat in one of the Mars Rovers parked near the
Valiant
. Feeling tired, she realized she needed a break from her initial exploration of the area. She stared out at the looming volcano, her mind brimming with questions. Who had constructed the laser beacon, and where had they gone? Were the builders indigenous to Mars, or had they originated somewhere else in the galaxy? And were there still vestiges of other life-forms, no matter how small and primitive, remaining on the planet? In other words, were there still living, breathing Martians?

Dawn and the other members of the crew had spent the last few hours conducting the initial scientific surveys of the landing site. Although several dozen robot landers had already touched down on Mars, doing everything from testing for the presence of exotic Martian “bugs” to bringing rock and soil samples back to Earth, as far as scientists could determine, no living creatures, not even rudimentary microorganisms, survived on or near the surface now. Biologically, the red planet appeared to be a dead world, as lifeless as Earth’s Moon.

But Dawn knew that view could change. Once, there had been free-flowing water on Mars; in fact, water still flowed on the surface in rare bursts, as evidenced by channels and eddies coming off the sides of crater rills and canyon walls. And billions of years ago, before the atmosphere thinned and deadly ultraviolet radiation blanketed the planet’s surface, life may have existed in now-vanished Martian seas. Since no one had drilled deeply into the core, there was a chance Martian extremophiles, possibly resembling microbes on Earth called
archaea
, still existed underground, especially in sub-surface water.

But drilling’s not in the cards for this mission
, Dawn thought. She looked off, trying to catch sight of Harry. He was out there somewhere with Kris, using their infrared spectrometer in the attempt to find organic molecules, even flipping over rocks and looking for visible evidence for something akin to the soil microbes found in Antarctica’s Dry Valleys. A quick check, he’d said, before the real work started; they planned to find the nearest field of gypsum, the best place to look for the fossilized remnants of ancient Martian sea life. 

“Hey, I found something!”

Gus’s excited voice broke into Dawn’s thoughts. She faced north again. Shovel in hand, the commander stood in the distance, waving to her from a small hill, near a huge drift of sand. As far as she could tell, no one else was within her range of vision.

“Hey, Dawn!” Gus’s voice rang out again over the com-link. “You gotta see this.”

“What did you find?”

“Something alien.” He patched a feed into her helmet’s Google glass. It was a monolith.

Her heart raced with excitement as she started up the Rover. “I’ll be there right away.”

A minute later, she pulled up and saw the real thing: a rectilinear monolith, the base covered by a pile of red dirt, the top exposed and jutting out at an angle. Dawn immediately thought of the classic film,
2001: A Space Odyssey
. But while that fictional monolith had been huge, this one was human-sized, reminding her somewhat of stelae found near ancient Mayan ruins.

What struck her as really peculiar was the metallic sheen on its surface. Even through the glaze of dust, she could see it glowed with all the hues of the rainbow. 

Harry and Kris arrived in the other Rover. Harry gave a low whistle as he reached Dawn’s side.

“Whoa,” he said, glancing at Gus with a smile. “What the heck did you find?” He started to wipe dust off the monolith. “About one meter is exposed. I wonder how big this sucker really is.”

“Some kind of granite?” Gus asked.

Kris shook her head. “Nah, see the weird shine? It looks synthetic.”

“I started digging,” Gus said, “then felt my shovel hit something hard. Thought it was a rock.”

“Some rock, eh?” Harry gave another whistle.

“Let’s dig deeper,” Gus said as he placed his foot on the shovel. 

“Hold on,” Dawn said. “You know the drill. We’ve got to excavate this thing scientifically.” 

“Okay, you’re the boss.” Gus took a step backward, then relinquished the shovel to her. 

“Mother of God, what is that?” 

Dawn turned as Tasha trudged up the slope, Lex trailing behind her.

“I am thinking of
2001
movie,” Tasha said, echoing Dawn’s thoughts. “Do you remember scene with ape-men?”

“Uh huh.” Gus stooped as much as his pressure suit would allow and took a closer look at the monolith. “Only I hope this won’t have us dancin’ around like monkeys.”

“But I think it does have a message for us,” Lex said. He pointed to the spot unearthed by Gus’s last push with the shovel. “Isn’t that a picture?”

***

The excavation of the monolith took nearly three hours, and now Dawn and her crewmates headed back to Lowell Base. Once there, they would analyze the images of the monolith’s alien message. 

Before entering the
Valiant
, they stopped to watch their first Martian sunset. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, as if the laws of physics had somehow been suspended in the alien firmament. The Sun hung low in the sky, a fiery, canary-yellow ellipsoid – dust particles in the atmosphere caused it to take on the peculiarly flattened shape – then it dropped beneath the horizon, and the sky dimmed to deep purple. An evening light, shimmering and blue, took its place in the heavens. The Earth!

Surrounded by night, the astronauts stood for a long moment watching their distant home, then they took the stairs of the lander one by one, Gus bringing up the rear. After entering the hatch, they removed their spacesuits in the airlock as a necessary precaution against contamination by the pervasive Martian dust, then cleaned up, ate a quick supper, and checked for any messages from home. Afterward, they analyzed the data acquired from the monolith.

Kris Jefferson stood back from the com-screen set up on the tabletop display and let the group take a look. There were several distinct drawings on the monolith, as well as a script written in a sequence of dots and dashes. It didn’t take a genius to realize the Martians had used binary code, like that used in the old days for computers.