The Martian Race (38 page)

Nobody said anything. Julia mused, “Do you think the spin doctors would like my ‘Marsmat’?”

Viktor said, “Still like ‘Marshroom’ better.”

The others laughed dutifully at that, then became quiet again.

“He's so damn sure he can cut some deal,” Raoul said sourly.

“He means for a share of the Mars Prize,” Marc said.

“Means for all of us,” Viktor said loyally.

“Maybe he can get two berths back,” Julia said.

Raoul scowled. “Cold equations time here, folks. There is only so much room in that cramped little ship. Want to spend half a year crawling all over those three?”

“And vice versa,” Marc said.

“Not that you'd mind,” Raoul said.

“Huh? What's that mean?”

“You and that Claudine have taken every chance you could get to go off and rub up against each other,” Raoul said tightly.

“What the hell?” Marc demanded.

“It's pretty damn obvious.”

“We knew each other in training. Went out a couple times, is all.”

“You'd love to fly back with them,” Raoul said hotly.

“Well, who wouldn't?” Marc shot back.

Raoul said sharply, “And you do know where the vent is, right?”

Marc leaped up. “You think I'd—”

Raoul glowered. “You've got motivation, is all I'm saying.”

Marc's hands twitched. “Geeze! I'd never—”

“Of course he would not,” Viktor said mildly. “Sit down, Marc.”

“He accused me of—”

“He spoke too quickly,” Viktor said rapidly. A cool, steady look at Raoul. “I am sure he is sorry he did.”

“Look, I didn't mean you'd really do that.” Raoul looked down at his mug. “Axy said we should think through possibilities, right? Well, that's one that will occur to Chen, too.”

This seemed a weak comeback to Julia, but Viktor nodded. “He could try to pull us apart.”

Raoul muttered darkly into his mug, “Thing is, I've had to watch my son grow up on the goddamned
vid.
When he walked for the first time, I saw a tape a day later, ‘cause we were out on a rove. His second birthday is coming up!”

Julia said awkwardly, “We know, it has been hard.”

Raoul looked her square in the eye. “And what do I have to offer Chen? Nothing but helping get water from the pingos. If they need help at all.”

“He does not decide,” Viktor said patiently.

Julia's throat felt tight, as though she were holding something in. She had never been able to talk to Raoul about his separation from Katherine, even though she was the unofficial Empathy Officer here. Apparently he had not been able to talk about it to anyone else, either. “We'll all decide together, really.”

Viktor said, “No, I will. For us.”

“Can't say as I like that,” Raoul said. He slurped from his mug, as if to underline his point.

“I decide for best of mission,” Viktor said.

Raoul studied Viktor and from his expression Julia judged that he had evidently decided not to challenge Viktor directly, at least not now. Raoul said carefully, “It seems to me that my chances are best if we just draw straws.”

“Judgment is always better than gambling,” Viktor said.

“Especially with lives,” Julia said loyally. She felt warm, as if she were getting angry herself. Or maybe, she thought ruefully, it was just thwarted self-righteousness.
She,
after all, had already turned down the slot Raoul was whining about. Viktor sat up straighter, a visible sign that he wanted to move the discussion forward. “We should discuss methane.”

Marc tilted his head. “You mean Axy's idea?”

“No, the methane we need to get back on next orbital opportunity, two years from now.”

“It's a lot,” Raoul said, shaking his head. His guttural tone told Julia that he was not satisfied at having his drawing-straws proposal brushed aside.

He was so obviously in pain. It was an impossible situation for each of them, but Raoul was taking it much harder than the others.
Machismo is exacting another toll.

“Delta vee is nearly twice our max rating, in present ERV.” Viktor pressed a command into his slate and it sent his display to the flatscreen. They all studied the details for a long moment: the required rendezvous speeds, expenditures, trajectory times—all for a family of return trajectories in the flight window. “So is nearly four times original fuel requirement.”

Raoul said in a flat, factual voice, free of emotion, “They'll have to send us an ERV with lots bigger tanks. Plus plenty of hydrogen.”

“Unless we do different scheme,” Viktor said. “Use water for hydrogen, keep oxygen separated. Be ready with fuel when ERV lands.”

“How?” Marc asked, then snapped his fingers. “Sure! We use the pingos, melt ‘em for water.”

“Before,” Viktor said, “was impossible. Did not have hoses, circulation chambers, storage. Now Airbus comes. Must have such things.”

Marc said, “Claudine was saying she had worked for days setting it up. They've got plenty of heat with that nuke, so they run a simple heat cycle through the reactor.”

Raoul said, “Their reactor's big, but we have one hundred forty kilowatts available here. Three nuke heaters that give mostly electricity, but I could modify them. Build up a chamber out of spare parts, if we have to—”

“So we could have fuel ready when the ERV arrives?” Julia asked. “Could we use it right away, not have to wait for the ERV to make methane out of Martian CO
₂
?”

“Might make some difference in our choice of trajectories,” Viktor said.

“Let's propose it to Earthside!” Marc said happily.

“Requires some thought,” Raoul said carefully. “But I don't think it can help much.”

“Why not?” Marc was surprised.

“Because there's no good window, right after the ERV touches down. Sure, there's a window a few months from now, to lift from Earth. But there's no easy, low-cost way back, once it gets here.”

Viktor nodded. “So as I have calculated. But Earthside may be able—”

“That's a pipe dream,” Raoul said with sudden anger. “You're feeding us false hope here.”

Viktor's face stiffened. “I explore all possibilities.”

“You want to talk methane,” Raoul said hotly, “I'd say we take care of what we got. That ERV over there has plenty enough methane to fly the Airbus nuke back to Earth. They'd be fools not to try for it.”

Julia's heart sank.
Not this again.

Marc blinked. “Try—
steal
it?”

“Axy was right. If they can't bargain for it, why not just take it?” Raoul demanded. “Let the lawyers fight over it afterward, when they're already on their way Earthside.”

Marc said thoughtfully, “Yeah, it's really NASA's, isn't it? Axy, he cut a deal, but it's got so many extra clauses and stuff in it—”

“We would not let them,” Viktor said sternly.

“Suppose they just fly their nuke over here and take it?” Raoul shot back.

“They're not going to try,” Julia said in what she hoped was a reasonable voice, though her face felt hot.

“I wonder,” Raoul said suggestively. “I mean, they could show up, force us to cut a deal.”

“For what?” Julia asked.

“For the extra berth, say?” Raoul said archly.

“What a mind! A conspiracy theory nightmare,” Julia said.

Viktor said slowly, coolly, “I have thought about it, since boss suggested this problem. We do not need to protect methane.”

“How about Axy's idea?” Raoul said hotly. “That maybe they need some parts or something? They could come over at night, take it.”

“I do not think threat is there,” Viktor insisted stolidly.

“You don't see a problem anywhere, do you?” Raoul said loudly, waving his right hand in a half-clenched fist. “You just wanna be in charge, like, like some goddamn
emperor—”

He emphasized the word with a sweeping gesture—and knocked his mug off the table. It hit the deck and shattered.

Everyone gasped. Raoul turned, dumbfounded. He gazed down at the shards that clinked to a stop against the walls. His horrified look, mouth half open in wrenched despair, froze the moment in Julia's mind as the depth of their own disintegration swept over her.

30

JANUARY 29,2018

T
HIS TIME HER DREAMS WEREN'T ABOUT SWIMMING
. T
HEY WERE SHORT
, disconnected fragments. She couldn't seem to really get to sleep. She finally gave up and sat up in bed. Her throat was raw, her shoulders ached. She felt goosebumps on her legs. Realization dawned slowly.
I'm sick. I must have a fever. Feels like the flu.

But how? An infection? But Mars was sterile.
We've been isolated together for over two years. We can't get sick anymore.

This phenomenon was first noted on submarines. Any incubating viruses made the rounds once. Then the crew were all immune and nobody got sick anymore.
It must be Airbus. Just my luck. I caught something from that weasel Chen.

A thought prickled the back of her mind.
The vent life.
She had been exposed without her helmet.
That's absurd. This is real life, not some tabloid fantasy.
She tried to push the thought back, failed.

Viktor stirred, reached for her in his sleep. She gently removed his arms. But he was persistent. Finally, after a couple more skirmishes, he awoke. “Something wrong? What time is it?”

“It's not quite midnight. I think I've got a fever, and I don't want you to get it.”

He was instantly concerned. “You are sick? With what?”

“It's probably a virus from Airbus.” She hesitated. “At least I hope it is.”

“What else could it be?”

“Viktor, what if it's a reaction to the Mars life?”

“I thought it was not likely to react with us.”

“No, it isn't. That's really a far-fetched idea, but I can't absolutely rule it out.”

“Is fever speaking, not biologist. You have Chinese variety of flu, probably.”

“Oh, God, when they find out about this on Earth, I'll never be allowed back home.”

“We say nothing. You be careful in front of camera, is all.”

“Well, they have nothing to worry about, since I'm not going back.”

“Maybe you should. Chen offered you the berth.”

“How could I live without you for two years?”

“Have busy time with ticker-tape parades, TriVid shows, lectures.”

“That's not what I want to do.”

“Work on vent life in fancy lab on Earth, then.”

“Hah. I'll probably never be able to touch my samples again. Every A-list microbiologist on the planet will want to work on them. I have no special credentials. I'm just the discoverer. Besides, Axelrod will sell ‘em to the highest bidder anyway.”

“Will be tough here. I would feel better if you were safe.”

“Viktor, I'm not going to go without you. And that's final.”

“Three guys here could—”

She put a hand over his mouth. “Wait a minute. What's that noise?”

He sighed. “Marc and Raoul, drunk and singing.” “They're drunk?”

“After you went to bed, Raoul brought out bottle of tequila. That one he was talking about opening after launch, remember?”

“Sounds like bad news. Depression plus alcohol.”

“I had one shot only, then came in here.”

“Well, it sounds like they've patched things up.”

“Both pretty tense today.”

“What's the captainly thing to do here?”

“Sleep.”

She wasn't going to sleep, not with a red-raw throat. And something in the tone of the words, though she could not make them out, sounded faint warning bells. Viktor believed in a rather formal standard of leadership, however, with strict compartments between professional and private behavior. How to get around that? “Um … I could use some entertainment.”

“I get your slate and headphones.”

Was he being deliberately dense? “I am going to breach protocol and eavesdrop.”

In the faint light she could see him grin. “Captain cannot do this.”

“But he can lie here and let sounds blow by him?”

“Captain can do that. Not his fault.”

She grunted as she slipped out of bed and moved quietly to the door. Carefully she turned the latch and cracked the door open. As she got back under the covers Marc's voice came through clearly, though slurred.

“—knew he was a prick with a ramrod up his ass alla time ‘bout somethin’.”

“Bastard sure hasn't changed,” Raoul agreed.

“Trainin’ in China, he'd make us run drills till we dropped, but no feedback about what was wrong. We were supposed to ‘discover it ourselves,’ he'd say.”

Julia whispered, “Well, at least it's not about you.” Viktor grinned again, lazing back. Even the captain could bend the rules and enjoy it.

“Ask me, he's got somethin’ goin’ here,” Marc muttered.

“Cards he hasn't played, like Axy says?”

“Can't read the guy. That always makes me suspicious.”

“He got all the breaks, right.” Raoul poured more coffee into a plastic mug.

“Glad he can't get the bio stuff, at least.”

“Hell, he sure wants it. And more.”

“An’ ever'body talks about the bio, sure. Thing is, he was trying to work it so he gets to fly home with three women, ever’ damn one of ‘em.”

“That's true. Leave us here with nothin’.”

“One sly guy, three women, two of ‘em single.” Marc's voice got fainter. Was he looking down into his glass in self pity? “Six, seven months to Earth.”

“Crowded, maybe they have to double up on bunk space.”

Marc laughed sourly. “Li'l adjustment, right. Captain's orders an’ all.”

“Li'l threesomes, maybe even?” Raoul's voice was low, muggy.

“Why not, he's the cap'n.”

“Goddamn Captain Chen—
he's
the one we should yank outta there.”

“Hey?”

“Pull him off, take that damn nuke for ourselves.”

“Huh? How?”

“Four of us, three of them. We got three guys, they got one tightass we could use for a punching bag, we wanted.”

“Uh, wow.” Marc sounded dazed.

“Take them when there's two outside, one inside.”

“Using what?”

“I can rig something that looks dangerous, never mind that.”