Moving Mars (3 page)

But as Sean brought his hand down, it closed reflexively into a fist. I realized then how earnest he was, and how serious this was, and what I was putting on the line.

We drew fibers from a frayed length of Old optic cord an hour after the mask count. Twenty-six had been cut long. I drew a long, as did Charles. Diane was very disappointed to get a short. We were issued masks and set our personal slates to encrypt signals tied to Seans and Gretyls code numbers. We had already gone over and over the plan. Twenty would cross the surface directly above the tunnels leading back to UMS. I was in this group.

There were aboveground university structures about five kilometers from our trench domes. The remaining students two teams of four each, Charles among them, under Seans commandwould fan out to key points and wait for a signal from Gretyl, the leader of our team of twenty, that we had made it to the administration chambers.

If we met resistance and were not allowed to present demands to Connor personally, then Seans teams would do their stuff. First, they would broadcast an illegal preemptive signal to the satcom at Marsynch, forcing on all bands the news that action in the name of contractual fulfillment was being taken by the voided students of UMS. Contractual fulfillment meant a lot even under the Statist experiment; it was the foundation of every familys existence, a sacred kind of thing. Where Sean had gotten the expertise and equipment to send a preemptive signal, he would not say; I found his deepening mystery even more attractive.

Sean would personally take one team of four to the rail links at UMS junction. They would blow up a few custom-curved maglev rods; trains wouldnt be able to go to the UMS terminal until a repair car had manufactured new rods, which would take several hours. UMS would be isolated.

Simultaneously, the second team of fourto which Charles was assignedwould break seals and pump oxidant sizzlea corrosive flopsand common in this regioninto the universitys net optic and satcom uplink facilities. That would break all the broad com between UMS and the rest of Mars. Private com would go through, but all broadband research and data links and library rentals would stop dead

UMS might lose three or four million Triple dollars before the links could be repaired.

That of course would make them angry.

We waited in two lines spiraling from the center of the main trench dome. At the outside of the spiral lines, Sean and Gretyl stood silent, jaws clenched. Some students shook their red-sealed hands to get ready for the cold. Skinseal wasnt made to keep you cozy. It only protected against hypothermia and frostbite.

My own skinseal had come loose at the joints and sweat was pooling before being processed by the nanomer. I had to go to the bathroom, more out of nerves than necessity; my feet and legs had swollen, but only a little; I was not miserable but the petty discomforts distracted me from the focus I needed to keep from turning into a quivering heap.

Listen, Sean said loudly, standing on a box to peer over our heads. None of us knew what wed be getting into when we started all this. We dont know whats going to happen in the next few hours. But we all share a common goal freedom to pursue our education without political interferencefreedom to stand clear of the sins of our parents and grandparents. Thats what Mars is all aboutsomething new, a grand experiment. Well be a part of that experiment now, or by God, well die trying.

I swallowed hard and looked for Charles, but he was too far away. I wondered if he still had his calm smile.

May it not come to that, Gretyl said.

Amen, said someone behind me.

Sean looked fully charged, face muscles sharply defined within a little oval of unsealed skin around his eyes, nose and mouth. Lets go, he said.

In groups of five, we removed our clothes, folding them neatly or just dropping them. The first to go entered the airlock, cycled through, and climbed the ladder. When my turn came, I crowded into the lock with four others, held my breath against the swirling red smear, and slipped on my mask and cycler. The old mask smelled doggy. Its edges adhered to the skinseal with the sound of a prim kiss. I heard the whine of pumps pulling back the air. The skinseal puffed as gas pressures equalized. Moving became more difficult.

My companions in the lock began climbing. My turn came and I took hold of the ladder rungs and poked through the hatch, above the rust-and-ochre tumble and smear. With a kick, I cleared the lip, clambered out onto the rocky surface of the plain, and stood under the early morning sky. The sun topped a ridge of hills lying east, surrounded by a dull pink glow. I blinked at the glare.

Wed have to hike over those hills to get to UMS. It had taken us half an hour simply to climb to the surface.

We stood a few meters east of the trench dome, waiting for Gretyl to join us. In just minutes, smear clung to us all; wed have to destat for half an hour when all this was over.

Gretyl emerged from the hole. Her voice decoded in my right ear, slightly muffled. Lets get together behind Seans group, she said.

We could breathe, we could talk to each other. All was working well so far.

Were off, Sean said, and his teams began to walk away from the trench. Some of them waved. I caught a glimpse of Charles from behind as his group marched in broken formation toward the hills, a little south of the track we would follow. I wondered why I was paying any attention to him at all. Skinseal hid little. He had a cute butt. Ever so slightly steatopygous.

I bit my lip to bring my thoughts together. Im a red rabbit, I told myself. Im on the Up for the first time in two years, and there are no scout supervisors or trailmasters in charge, checking all our gear, making sure we get back to our mommies. Now focus, damn you!

Lets go, Gretyl said, and we began our trek.

It was a typical Martian morning, springtime balmy at minus twenty Celsius. The wind had slowed to almost nothing. The air was clear for two hundred kilometers. Thousands of stars pricked through at zenith like tiny jewels. The horizon glimmered shell-pink.

All my thoughts aligned. Something magical about the moment. I felt I possessed a completely realistic awareness of our situation and of our chances of surviving.

The surface of Mars was usually deadly cold. This close to the equator, however, the temps were relatively mildseldom less than minus sixty. Normal storms could push winds up to four hundred kiphs, driving clouds of fine smear and flopsand high enough and wide enough to be seen from Earth. Rarely, a big surge of Jetstream activity could send a high-pressure curl over several thousand kilometers, visible from orbit as a snaking dark line, and that could raise clouds that would quickly cover most of Mars. But the air on high Sinai Planum, at five millibars, was too thin to worry about most of the time. The usual winds were gentle puffs, barely felt.

My booted feet pounded over the crusted sand and tumble. Martian soil gets a thin crust after a few months of lying undisturbed; the grains fall into a kind of mechanical cement that feels a lot like hoarfrost. I could dimly hear the others crunching, sound traveling through the negligible atmosphere making them seem dozens of meters away.

Lets not get too scattered, Gretyl said.

I passed an old glacier-rounded boulder bigger than the main trench dome. Ancient ice floes had sculpted the crustal basalt into a rounded gnome with its arms splayed across the ground, flat head resting on its arms in sleep pretended sleep.

Somehow, red rabbits never became superstitious about the Up. It was too orange and red and brown, too obviously dead, to appeal to our morbid instincts.

If theyre smart and somebodys anticipating us, there may be pickets out this far to keep track of the periphery of the university, Sean said over the radio.

Or if somebodys tattled, Gretyl added. I was starting to like Gretyl. Despite having an unpleasant voice and an unaltered, shrewlike face, Gretyl seemed to have a balanced perspective. I wondered why she had kept that face. Maybe it was a family face, something to be proud of where she came from, like English royaltys unaltered features, mandated by law. The long nose of King Henry of England.

Damn.

Focus gone.

I decided it didnt matter. Maybe focusing on keeping a focus was a bad thing.

The sun hung above the ridge now, torch-white with the merest pink tinge. Around it whirled the thinnest of opal hazes, high silicate and ice clouds laced against the brightening orange of day. The rock shadows started to fill in, making each step a little easier. Sometimes wind hollows hid behind boulders, waiting for unwary feet.

Gretyls group had spread out. I walked near the front, a few steps to her right.

Picket, said Garlin Smith on my right, raising his arm. He had been my classmate in mass psych, quiet and tall, what ignorant Earth folks thought a Martian should look like.

We all followed Garlins pointing finger to the east and saw a lone figure standing on a rise about two hundred meters away. It carried a rifle.

Armed, Gretyl said under her breath. I dont believe it.

The figure wore a full pressure suita professional job, the type worn by areologists, farm inspectors, Statist police. It reached up to tap its helmet. It hadnt seen us yet, apparently, but it was picking up the jumbled buzz of our coded signals.

Keep going, Gretyl said. We havent come this far to be scared off by a single picket.

If it is a picket, Sean commented, listening to our chat. Dont assume anything.

It has to be a picket, Gretyl said.

All right, Sean said with measured restraint.

The figure caught sight of us about four minutes after we first noticed it. We were separated by a hundred meters. It looked like a normal male physique from that distance.

My breath quickened. I tried to slow it.

Report, Sean demanded.

Armed male in full pressure suit. He sees us. Not reacting yet, Gretyl said.

We didnt deviate from our path. We would pass within fifty meters of the picket.

The helmeted head turned, watching us. He held up a hand. Hey, what is this? a masculine voice asked. What in hell are you doing up here? Do you folks have ID?

Were from UMS, Gretyl said. We didnt slow our pace.

What are you doing up here? the picket repeated.

Surveying, whats it look like? Gretyl responded. We carried no instruments. What are you doing up here?

Dont bunny with me, he said. You know theres been trouble. Just tell me what department youre from and have you been using code?

No, Gretyl said.

We had closed another twenty yards. He started to hike down the rise to inspect us.

What in hell are you wearing?

Red suits, Gretyl answered.

Shit, its skinseal. Its against the law to wear that stuff except in emergencies. How many of you are there?

Forty-five, Gretyl lied.

Ive been told to keep intruders off university property, he said. Ill need to see IDs. You should have UMS passes to even be up here.

Is that a gun? Gretyl asked, faking a lilt of surprise.

Hey, get over here, all of you.

Why do you need a gun?"

Unauthorized intruders. Stop now.

Were from the Areology Department, and weve only got a few hours up here Didnt you get a waiver from Professor Sunder?

No, dammit, stop right now.

Listen, friend, who do you answer to?

UMS is secure property. Youd better give me your student ID numbers now.

Fap off, Gretyl said.

The picket raised his rifle, a long-barreled, slender automatic flechette. My anger and fear were almost indistinguishable. Dauble and Connor must have lost their minds. No student on Mars had ever been shot by police, not in fifty-three years of settlement. Hadnt they ever heard of Tienanmen or Kent State?

Use it, Gretyl said. Youll be all over the Triple for shooting areology students on a field trip. Great for your career. Really spin you in with our families, too. What kind of work you looking for, rabbit?

Our receivers jabbered with the pickets own coded outgoing message. More jabber returned.

The man lowered his rifle and followed us. Are you armed? he asked.

Where would students get guns? Gretyl asked. Who in hell is giving you orders to scare us?

Listen, this is serious. I need your IDs now.

Weve got his code, Sean said. Hes been told to block you however he can.

Great, Gretyl said.

Who are you talking to? Stop using code, the picket demanded.

Maybe theyre not clueing you, rabbit, Gretyl taunted.

Gretyls bravado, her talent for delay and confusion, astonished me. Perhaps she and Sean and a few of the others had been training for this. I wished I knew more about revolution.

The word came to me like a small blow on my back. This was a kind of revolution. Jesus, I said with my transmitter off.

Whats he doing? Sean asked.

Hes following us, Gretyl said. He doesnt seem to want to shoot.

Not with flechettes, sure enough, Sean said. What a banner that would be! I filled in the details involuntarily:

STUDENTS RIPPED BY BURROWING DARTS.

More code whined in our ears like angry insects.

We marched over another rise, the guard following close behind, and saw the low poke-ups of UMS. The UMS warrens extended to the northeast for perhaps a kilometer, half levels above, ten levels deep. The administration chambers---were closest to the surface entrance and the nearby pot. Train guides hovered on slender poles, arcing gently over another rise to link with the station.

Seans teams were probably there now.

More guards emerged from the UMS buildings, armed and in full pressure suits.

All right, came a gruff female voice. State your business. Then get the hell out of here or youll be arrested.

Gretyl stepped forward, a scrawny little red devil with a black masked head. We want an audience with Chancellor Connor. We are students who have been illegally voided and whose contracts have been flagrantly broken. We demand

Who in hell do you think you are? A bunch of fapping rodents? The womans voice scared me. She sounded outraged, on the edge of something drastic. I couldnt tell which of the suited figures she was, or if she was outside at all. Youve crossed regional property. Goddamned Gobacks should know what that means.