Season of Passage, The (18 page)

Maybe he does real y worship her.

'I'm sorry, Terry,' Jennifer said. 'But I must be here when Lauren thinks of Earth and dreams of coming home.

When she returns, she wil have to come here, no matter what. This place wil be in her mind like an important picture she thinks she's lost.'

Daniel nodded gravely. 'Yeah.'

Terry snorted. 'You're talking a bunch of nonsense.'

'I'm not leaving,' Jennifer said plainly.

Terry sighed in resignation. She was one kid he had never been able to control. He doubted anyone could have. 'I'l tel Lauren you're in good

hands,' he said.

'You wil tel her everything about me,' Jennifer said.

THIRTEEN

Lauren Wagner's first conscious sensation was of floating, a feeling of being suspended in a colorless fluid where there was neither light nor

darkness. She could have been in her mother's womb, and for a long time she drifted without the distracting motion of thoughts or images. She was

resting, she knew that much, and she did not want to be disturbed.

After what seemed an eternity, she realized she was waking up. Memories sprouted. Her name was Lauren Wagner. She was a famous astronaut,

and a surgeon, too. Soon she would be going to Mars. There was much to do, much to learn. She would have to leave Jennifer and Terry. It was a

shame, but it wasn't going to happen today. It was going to happen tomorrow. Now nothing mattered and everything could wait.

Lauren began to go back to sleep.

However, a voice spoke in her ear and suddenly Lauren remembered where she was, and that she had already left her family.

[You are waking up nicely, Lauren. Make no effort to move. Talk only if comfortable.]

I'm the doctor here.

She opened her eyes.

Except for the faint glow of her monitors, the ship was dark. Yet even as she watched, a dul red light streamed

through the window above her hibernaculum. It took her more than a minute to realize the light was coming from Mars. A bleep from her monitors

cautioned her not to get too excited. She closed her eyes and took slow deep breaths. Her ribs felt tight. She wiggled a toe, which cracked loudly.

Starting at her feet and moving slowly toward her head, she systematical y contracted and relaxed al her major muscles. After a while she was able

to move her arms and legs comfortably. Again she opened her eyes, this time studying the monitors closely. Everyone was alive and doing wel .

She noticed that her own blood was no longer circulating from the shunt in her arm. It was strange to think how many times it had been reprocessed

while she slept.

'Open a line to Houston, Friend,' Lauren whispered.

[Yes, Lauren.]

Mission Control would expect a profound statement: One long sleep for man, one big nightmare for mankind. Lauren moistened her throat. 'This is

Dr Wagner. How is Earth?'

Twenty minutes would elapse before they received her message. Lauren tried to imagine the reaction. There would be a celebration. People would

slap each other on the back and shake hands. Bottles of champagne would be opened. Jennifer and Terry would be there to enjoy it.

'Open the lid on my hibernaculum, Friend.'

[Yes, Lauren.]

There was a sharp hiss and then a blast of cold air. Lauren shivered. 'What is the internal temperature of the Nova, Friend?'

[Seventy-six degrees Fahrenheit, Lauren.]

'Raise it ten degrees. Give me manual control of the other hibernaculums.'

[Yes, Lauren.]

Lauren halted the circulation of the Antabolene in her friends' bodies and began to warm their hibernaculums. Then she pul ed herself upright with

great effort and peered out the nearby porthole. The others would not awaken for hours. She was alone with a view no other living human being had

seen. Through the porthole, Mars was twice the size of the Moon as seen from Earth, richly colored, with dazzling white polar caps that topped a

haunting red globe. If nothing else, she thought, they had come this far.

Lauren began to massage her legs, noting with displeasure how her muscle tone had gone flat and her color had faded. She would have to start

walking immediately, and she would be first under the sun lamp, and to hel with what Gary said.

'I want a warm glass of juice, Friend,' she said.

[Which flavor would you prefer, Lauren?]

'Coconut pineapple.'

[Yes, Lauren.]

A thin green tube extended from the wal near her head, and she sucked on the juice. It removed a bad taste in her mouth and gave her a new level

of strength. 'This is good,' she said.

[Yes, Lauren.]

'Turn on the auxiliary lamps in section B.'

[Yes, Lauren.]

Soft yel ow light flooded her compartment. Across from her, Jessica and Bil lay like black statues in their hibernaculums.

'Is the Nova in good shape, Friend?' she asked.

[Yes, Lauren.]

'Very good. I want to hear some music, vocal level. Put on a disc of the rock group cal ed the Doors.'

[Which one, Lauren?]

'I don't know. Which one is Jim's favorite?' [I'm not sure, Lauren. He often plays 'Strange Days.'] '"Strange days."' Lauren muttered. 'Yes, that sounds

appropriate. Put that one on, Friend.' [Yes, Lauren.]

By the time Lauren was able to walk without support she had heard al of 'Strange Days,' 'Waiting for the Sun,' and 'The Soft Parade.' Jim was right

- it was wonderful music.

Four hours later the rest of the crew had al revived, as weak as newborn kittens. Lauren was in communication with Houston and was surprised to

find that Jennifer was not at Mission Control. In a taped message - with the time delay, they were al taped - Terry explained she was staying in

Wyoming with Daniel and his family. Lauren assumed that meant Jennifer was not in school, which she wasn't crazy about. Terry also said that he

was working on his book, and that she had received an erotic gift from Santa for Christmas. He looked uncomfortable talking into his camera.

Lauren sent him a return message saying she was sure his present would get plenty of use. She didn't press him about Jennifer's absence. It was

very good to see him again.

She figured NASA listened to her message a few seconds before Terry heard it. No doubt the president was stil worried about national security.

Using the best of Friend's freeze-dried formulas, Lauren cooked breakfast for the starving sleepyheads: a glass of powdered milk and a thin

vegetable soup. Jim, who was now sitting up in bed, asked if he could have a cup of coffee. Lauren reminded him that he had been sleeping for

over three months and that of course he couldn't have any coffee. Gary told Jim from across the room that he had a bottle of Scotch tucked away

and that he would be more

than happy to share his wealth as soon as he was strong enough to fetch it.

Lauren immediately went to Gary's private locker, and did indeed find a fifth of Scotch, cleverly hidden beneath a mound of science fiction

paperbacks, the latest issue of Playboy which was now three months old - and a framed picture of his mom and dad. While Jim and Gary howled

helplessly in their hibernaculums, she poured the Scotch down the disposal chute.

Then on impulse she checked Jim's locker. She almost fel to the ship's axis with what she saw: two cans of instant coffee, five bags of Oreo

cookies, ten bars of Swiss chocolate, two boxes of sugar jel ies from England, and a giant lol ipop from Disneyland. How he had smuggled the

goods aboard a ship that had never been closer than two hundred miles to Earth was beyond Lauren. Knowing she had found his treasures, Jim

begged her to have mercy. He promised not to eat any sweets for two days. Against her better judgment, she said OK. At least she knew now why

he hadn't lost any weight at the isolation complex.

Outside their portholes, Mars grew. Three days had elapsed since they had awoken. Lauren leaned against the wal of their compact gym and

watched as Jim labored uphil on a treadmil . There were wires attached to his chest and electrocardiogram lines tracing across a nearby screen.

Lauren was worried. Jim's heartbeat was slightly irregular. He had MVP - Mitral Valve Prolapse. The condition was general y not serious. It was

caused by a slight loosening of the tissue that held the mitral valve in place inside the heart. Most people who had MVP only noticed it when their

hearts fluttered. Occasional y chest pain and shortness of breath could make the person think he was having a heart attack. But the symptoms

came seldom, and never

led to a heart attack, unless there was an underlying pathology.

What worried Lauren was that Jim had not had MVP three months ago. Had the prolonged hibernation brought it on? She considered consulting

with physicians back home. Yet she feared they might forbid his landing on Mars, just to be on the safe side. She knew that such a decision would

devastate him.

It would probably cause him more stress than the exploration.

Lauren watched as he struggled to breathe through the mask that covered his mouth and nose. He was tiring already, and he had completed less

than half his exercise time. She motioned for him to stop.

'I'm not tired,' he said, removing the respirator. 'Shouldn't I do another ten minutes, Lauren?'

She glanced at the screen again. 'Wait an hour. Then finish the other ten.'

He pointed to the peaks and val eys of his electrocardiogram. 'How am I doing?'

'OK. How do you feel?'

'Great. Now tel me, is there a problem?'

There was no sense in worrying him. Most people who had MVP didn't even know it, and lived happier lives because of the ignorance.

'You're fine,' she said. 'I just want you to come along a bit slower than the rest of us.' She plucked a white hair from his chest. 'Remember, you're our

old man. If the Martians show up and want to wrestle, leave them to Gary and me.'

Now it was six days after awakening. They were strapped in the Hawk, preparing to break away from the Nova and land in the Utopia Planitia

region, near the derelict Rover. Mark was alone at the Nova's controls. Since entering orbit, he

had photographed their first landing spot extensively through a high-powered telescope. After studying the pictures, and after a brief consultation

with Houston, Bil had relocated their touchdown approximately two miles northwest of where the Rover had put down. Bil said the terrain was

smoother there. Unfortunately, the next time they set down, in the volcanic Tharsis region where the Russians had landed, they would have one and

only one touchdown area, a plateau located beside Olympus Mons, the tal est known mountain in the solar system.

Jim's MVP ceased to affect his endurance. Lauren didn't contact Houston and never did tel him about it. It was her first major medical decision on

the mission, and she was not going by the book. She hoped she didn't live to regret it.

[Thirty seconds to break away.]

Friend's circuits were duplicated in ful aboard the Hawk. He would continue as their faithful companion while they lived on the planet. Leaving half

his brain in orbit didn't seem to bother him in the least.

'Give me a countdown from five, Friend,' Gary said, his voice calm.

[Five. Four. Three. Two. One.]

There was a gentle shove. Outside their windows, the Nova began to float slowly away.

'You're looking good,' Mark said over their headsets.

When they had drifted a couple of hundred yards, Gary rotated the Hawk, so that the ship's nose was pointed directly at Mars. Then he fired their

auxiliary thrusters. As they coasted downwards, the red globe seemed to fal toward them, a huge bal ready to snuff out their puny existence.

Because Mars had an atmosphere - thin though it was - their descent procedure was different than the one astronauts used to land on the moon. An

atmosphere meant friction, and friction meant heat. Gary would use

that friction to break their speed. To counteract the heat, the Hawk was equipped with a ceramic tile shield, which would be jettisoned once they

opened their parachutes.

So they coasted, for more than three hours, until the atmospheric drag began to make itself felt, at an altitude of approximately one hundred fifty

miles. At that point Gary turned the heat shield in the direction of their fal . Their speed was three miles a second, but was diminishing rapidly.

Lauren could feel the pressure of deceleration. Her breathing was labored and it was difficult to raise her arms. On Gary's screens Mars resolved

into a landscape: ragged craters, wide-open sandy plains, twisting red val eys that cut like bloody incisions two miles deep. Lauren even caught a

glimpse of Olympus Mons, far away but stil clearly visible in the morning light, wreathed in ice clouds that condensed out of the upper atmosphere

each dawn.

The Hawk began to vibrate. Gary sang to himself. He was a rocket man again. He was where he wanted to be, doing what he wanted. The

temperature of their cabin rose sharply. Lauren began to perspire.

Fifteen miles above the ground their deceleration reached its maximum value. Here their descent vector turned paral el to the surface as the Hawk

bobbed on the aerodynamic lift provided by the atmosphere. But the equilibrium was only temporary and soon their descent resumed. Not long

after, four miles above the ground, their speed was less than that of an ordinary passenger jet. Now Gary discarded the heat shield and opened

their parachutes. Lauren suddenly felt as if she were standing on her head in a fal ing elevator. The Hawk was spinning. It was expected, and slowly