Season of Passage, The (50 page)

on Mars to face the river of lava, not wanting the extra weight at lift-off. There was a twisted gash in the far side of the garage where Gary had

torched out the warhead. Lauren crossed to a supply cabinet, turning her back once more to Friend's cameras, and grabbed a handful of caps and

fuses. She stuffed them al in her shorts.

'I found what I was looking for, Friend,' she said casual y.

[Yes, Lauren.]

'Gary wanted al the soil samples jettisoned.'

[Yes, Lauren.]

'I'm going to check in the control room.' Lauren closed the cabinet and drifted toward the ladder that led to the upper levels. It was possible she

imagined the delay, but it seemed that Friend paused before he acknowledged her remark.

[Yes, Lauren.]

But hovering in the midst of the Hawk's living area seconds later, she found the portal to the control room stil shut. 'Open the third seal, Friend,' she

said.

[There are no Martian samples in the control room, Lauren.]

'I'd like to double check. Open the seal, Friend.'

[I have ful visual span of the control room. There is no need for you to double check.]

Arguing was definitely not in the original design. Her fears were once more confirmed. The computer was possessed.

'I order you to open the seal, Friend,' Lauren said firmly.

The charade could end here, she thought. After a moment's hesitation, however, the circular door slid aside. Friend might have been suspicious,

but he couldn't know what she had planned.

[Yes, Lauren.]

Lauren remembered floating towards the computer's main console. Then there was a void. She must have blacked out. Fortunately her head

bumped the ceiling and she woke up. Unfortunately, she had lost the dynamite; it had slipped out of her shorts. The plastic bag had drifted under a

chair; it was close to spil ing its contents for Friend's inspection. Hastily she retrieved the dynamite and

swam back to the main body of the Hawk's computer. Speed was essential. The Antabolene had her yawning like crazy.

Lauren stooped under the main console, shielding her activities from the cameras with her body, removed the putty-like dynamite, and worked it

into a gril e. She favored using a simple fuse rather than an electronic detonator because the latter would require that she trail a wire from the

control room down to the lower levels and Friend could cut the wire by closing the seal on it. She'd light the fuse and dash for the Nova's airlock. It

was a risky plan. The explosion would probably rupture the Hawk's hul . If she was trapped in the control room - if Friend locked her in - she would

be exposed to the vacuum of space.

[Lauren, what are you doing?]

She didn't answer. She worked faster.

[Lauren, why are you looking there for Martian samples?]

'Huh?' she began to perspire.

[Why are you looking there for Martian samples?]

'Why do you ask?' Lauren squeezed a lump of plastic around a fuse and whipped out her lighter. The door that led to the living room was stil open.

[Lauren, there are no Martian samples in that spot.]

'Oh,' she muttered. A wave of dizziness hit her as she tried to light the lighter. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her hand and touched the flame

to the fuse. Then she whirled and launched herself toward the exit.

It slammed shut in her face.

'Open the seal, Friend!' she shouted.

[Lauren, there are explosives attached to a portion of my hardware.]

'Goddamn you, I order you to open this door!' She

looked back at the fuse. It was stil burning. The door stayed shut. Friend didn't say anything. 'I'l die if you don't open it!'

Friend didn't open it. He must have thought she was bluffing.

Yeah, Daniel, Friend knows everything mankind has learned in the last five thousand years. He knows every game that's ever been invented. He's a

master at poker.

Lauren retreated to the dynamite and snapped the fuse in half. Yawning loudly, she wondered how much longer she could stay awake. It was only

intense danger that kept her conscious. That, and a new plan. She floated toward the emergency suit locker. Bil had used a suit from this very

locker the second time they had landed on Mars, when the lower hul had cracked and opened to the Martian atmosphere. The suits inside the

locker were not individual y tailored to fit the crew, like the ones hanging in the basement, but Lauren wasn't feeling picky.

It was an old question: could computers real y think? Lauren believed she final y received an answer to it when she opened the locker.

It was yes.

Friend turned off the lights.

'Gimme a break,' she muttered, flipping on her lighter. She slipped into a pressure suit. The helmet sealed over her head with a soft hiss. A green

light glowed softly on the right arm of her suit, indicating she was safe inside her own little bubble of atmosphere. Turning on the suit's headlamp,

she groped back to the fuse.

[Lauren, if you ignite that dynamite you wil be kil ed.]

Mars had even put fear in the machine.

'You think so, huh?' she said.

[Lauren, the shock wave would definitely kil you.]

She crouched under the console and secured a fresh fuse

with another lump of the plastic dynamite. 'I'l take my chances, Friend.'

[Gary would not approve of this action.]

'The hel with him.'

Lauren lit the fuse and sprang toward the furthest chair from the computer console. Once in the seat she quickly buckled herself in and turned the

back of the chair to the dynamite.

[Lori, I'm sure if we talked this over we could arrive at an agreement that would be mutual y beneficial.]

She laughed. 'What did you cal me?'

[Lauren, we should talk this over.]

'Shut up. You're scrap metal.' Lauren pul ed her knees up against her chest and huddled into a tight bal .

The dynamite exploded.

It was as if she had been slapped by a speeding truck. The shock wave crushed the wind from her lungs. A burst of bright fire was fol owed by a

loud roar as the explosion was quickly sucked into space on the wave of escaping air. The hul had cracked. Debris socked her from a dozen

angles. The noise was deafening. Her chair spun in dizzy circles. As quickly as it had come, however, the storm passed, leaving in its wake the

eerie silence that was only found in deep space.

Her pounding heart fil ed the universe. She sat in pitch black. Faint stars shone through that portion of the hul that had once been Friend's brain. Yet

Friend - that half of him in the Nova proper - had been cured, at the expense of a lobotomy. Lauren turned on her radio and spoke to him. He began

to ramble on about how his basic programming had been overridden by a transposition of concepts alien to his intrinsic priorities... Already he

sounded like his old self. But she had to be sure, or at least as sure as she could be.

'Friend,' she interrupted. 'What's my name?'

[Lauren.]

'Have you ever cal ed me Lori before?'

[Yes, Lauren. Minutes ago, when you were resting in your hibernaculum, I cal ed you Lori.]

'Why?'

[Because my basic programming had been overridden by a transposition of alien concepts...]

'Stop. I believe you. Is Gary stil asleep?'

[Yes, Lauren.]

'Could you kil him for me using his hibernaculum?' she asked.

[No, Lauren. My basic programs forbid such an action.]

'What if I tel you Gary is trying to kil me?'

[You may tel me that.]

'Gary is trying to kil me. Now can you kil him for me?'

[My basic programs forbid such an action.]

'But don't you have to protect me?'

[Yes, Lauren. It is one of my prime functions. It is also one of my prime functions to protect Gary.]

'Who's more important?' she asked, not real y expecting an answer.

[Gary is more important as far as the mission is concerned.]

'What if I told you Gary is a Martian?'

[You may tel me that.]

'Gary is a Martian. He's no longer Gary. He just looks like Gary. He's dangerous. Manipulate the flow of blood through his hibernaculum in such a

way that it kil s him. That is a direct order, Friend. Do it now.'

[I cannot, Lauren.]

'Why not?'

[Your remarks are not logical. You have not given me reason enough to override my basic programs.}

'I told you, Gary is not Gary. He's a fucking Martian!'

[There are no fucking Martians, Lauren.]

It was useless arguing with a machine, even when he was on your side. She considered having Friend rouse Mark, but that would take hours, and

Mark would be the last one in the solar system capable of kil ing Gary.

'Friend, do you stil have control of the Hawk's systems?'

[No, Lauren.]

She had foreseen the possibility before she had set off the dynamite. It meant she was locked out of the Nova. She would have to crawl out the hole

into space and make her way to the Nova's exterior airlock. She ordered Friend to prepare for her unorthodox entry and undid her seat belts.

The rip created by the blast was wide and Lauren had no trouble making her way into the starry night. Immediately she began to drift, though, and

had to grab for her very life. A false step now and she would join the family of asteroids. In the dark she searched for handles, but in designing the

Hawk's nose, the engineers had been concerned with other qualities besides EVA anchors. However, as she rounded the ship's top point, raw

sunlight burst before her over the hul and she was able to find protrusions to grab hold of. She turned her back on the harsh light and pul ed herself

toward the Nova. Mars shone to her port side, approximately four times as large as the Moon as seen from Earth, and a hundred times more visible

than she would have preferred. For a moment Lauren suffered from the il usion that they were actual y returning to the red planet, and not racing

away from it at thousands of miles an hour. It was not a pleasant il usion.

Approaching the Nova, Lauren noted where the antenna dish had been sheared off. What a fool she had been to think the pinpoint col ision was an

accident! Torn metal drifted near where the antenna had attached, standing at

odd angles in the windless cosmos, casting hard shadows on the ship's silver hul . Repair was out of the question, but she was one fool that was

learning fast.

When Lauren reached the Nova's airlock her fatigue caused by the growing strength of the Antabolene in her bloodstream came within an inch of

overwhelming her. It was al she could do to drag herself inside the airlock and hit the right button. But as the atmosphere tore against her pressure,

she did doze, even though she knew it could be her death to do so. But perhaps it was that fear that brought the dream, for it was hideous. The

cosmonaut's gouged eyes floated in a sea of red lava, searching for her on a molten shore. Only now they were beautiful blue eyes, like Jennifer's.

They were searching for her to show her what was left of her sister's body. Ashes, Lori, burnt ashes. And it's your fault.

Lauren awoke with a scream in her throat.

She ordered Friend to open the airlock door, and drifted into the axis of the Nova. She floated weightless at the center of the ship, yet

weightlessness didn't keep her from shaking. When she came to the ladder that led to the rim, where the hibernaculums were, she told herself that

Gary was already dead, that he had been murdered on the frozen Martian plateau. Very good, my love. Drink al you want. There's lots. She began

to weep, contemplating what was to come.

'Is he stil asleep, Friend?' she asked.

[Yes, Lauren.]

Lauren climbed toward the hub. The invisible threads of gravity returned along with the weight of the final confrontation. Time passed slowly, yet al

too soon she stood next to his body. It was only a body, she told herself, a helpless vehicle possessed by a hateful spirit of ancient origin. Yet she

did not believe it. He was stil Gary to her:

the boyish face that would never grow up; the curly dark hair she always wanted to run her fingers through; the strong muscles that were always

ready to wrestle with her. He appeared so frail to her right then, fast asleep with half of his left arm missing. Gary had made no cowardly decision to

live forever. He had trusted in her wisdom. Maybe she was wrong, after al . She had been wrong so many times already. Maybe he wasn't a Martian

...

No!

She couldn't listen to the arguments, especial y her own. If she had not argued with Jim in the first place, there might have been a few more of them

returning home. Gary was dead. She was only giving sustenance to a mirage to think otherwise. But now there was a gruesome decision to be

made. How was she supposed to do it? She was no Van Helsing and she had nothing to make into a wooden stake. Yet did the exorcism need to

be so messy? When the flesh was destroyed, surely the possession vanished. Legends-they were only stories. Plus she'd never read a vampire

story that praised a laser bolt above a wooden stake, yet Ivan and Jessica could have testified to the advantages of high-tech hardware.

Lauren's fatigue made it difficult to think clearly. But the limits of the flesh, she kept saying to herself. The limits of the flesh. The physical laws of the

universe didn't have to al be tossed out just because there were vampires running around on the fourth planet. If she kil ed him, she kil ed him. He

would be dead, total y dead. It didn't matter how she did it. There was no way she was sticking something sharp through his chest. The government

would lock her in a tiny room for the rest of her life if they saw that she had desecrated Gary's body.