A Step Beyond (24 page)

N
elson was crawling slowly toward the edge of the cliff, one end of a rope tied to his utility belt, the other end to a boulder. He moved forward a meter and stopped. Cautiously, he swept the loose rocks away and pressed down on the ground with his elbow to test it for his weight. Once satisfied, he unwound more rope and moved forward. He was a meter from where the edge had broken away.

“I’m only receiving his locator,” Endicott said. “He must have damaged his comm equipment in the fall; otherwise, I would at least get some bio. Nothing. He’s about eighteen meters below you.”

“Keep on trying,” Nelson said, and crawled forward another meter. His fingers gripped the edge, loose dirt crumbled between them, and a rock broke away and fell. His hand slipped out from underneath him. His upper body fell against the ledge. More rocks broke away. He could feel the ground crumbling beneath him. “Jesus!”

“What’s happening?” Endicott cried.

With nothing to support them his elbows dropped and slammed into the side of the cliff. And then he stopped. Half his body was dangling over the edge. He could feel the rope tugging at his belt.

“What’s happening?” Endicott cried again.

“Part of the ledge broke away,” Nelson said, the words separated by gasps for air. “Close call.”

“Be careful.”

“Rest assured, I have every . . .” There was a white spot against the red rock directly beneath him. Nelson recognized it immediately as Carter’s space suit. It was crumpled together like a broken doll, parts poking out at awkward angles.

“I see him,” Nelson whispered.

“Could you repeat that. Did not copy.”

“I said, I see him.”

“Any movement?”

There was a pause.

“Negative.”

“How is he?”

“Too far to tell, but it doesn’t look good. I see no movement. Repeat, no movement.”

“Use the binoculars.”

“Right,” Nelson responded. Carefully, inch by inch, he pushed himself back from the edge. When he felt certain he had reached a safe distance he sat up and brushed the red dust from his suit. He pulled the binoculars from their protective casing and turned them on. A green light indicated that the communications link with the computer aboard the
Liberty
was established. The link enabled enhanced imaging; it also allowed the others to see whatever Nelson focused the binoculars upon. He attached the binoculars to his helmet and crawled back toward the edge.

It took a few seconds to locate Carter. Nelson increased the magnification by a factor of four. The space suit was bent in half, caught between two rocks, with one leg sticking straight up and the other twisted back at an awkward angle. The arms were splayed out to each side. Still no movement. He focused on the helmet and increased the magnification. The safety glass was undamaged. He scanned the space suit, looking for punctures, but did not see any.

“The suit appears intact,” he said. “I think his leg is broken.” He felt unusually nervous, and his throat was dry and sticky. Unable to produce saliva, he swallowed air, which only made his throat feel worse. He reduced the magnification. “Switching to infrared.”

The side of the volcano disappeared into a dark haze, and floating disembodied in the middle of the haze glowed a red form. Numbers flashed in the lower left-hand corner of the lens.

“Suit temperature checks out. Life-support systems are functioning.” Which was hopeful, thought Nelson, but did not mean Carter was alive. “Switching to computer-enhanced.”

The face behind the glass was a beige blur with two dark streaks slanting upward and a red blotch underneath. It was not recognizable as Carter, nor was it really recognizable as a face.

“Sharpen image based on facial composites,” Nelson said. “I’ll need a few seconds,” Endicott replied.

With the aid of digitized images, the computer assembled the colors into a face. The dark streaks transformed into eyebrows and the red blotch into a mouth. The eyes were shut. He increased the magnification and focused on the mouth, then the nostrils. Both were still.

“Is he breathing?” Endicott asked.

“I can’t tell.”

He decreased the magnification until Carter’s face filled the lens. The computer-enhanced skin was pale white. Nelson felt as though he were looking into an open casket. The body could have been embalmed. And then, without warning, the eyes blinked open. They were pearls, lifeless and cold. Nelson searched the eyes for signs of life. They remained perfectly still. The magnification made the ghostly countenance seem only a few centimeters away. The eyes closed.

“We’ve got some movement,” Nelson said. “I’m going down.”

“Not so quick, Tom,” Endicott said. “We can’t be positive he’s alive. It may have been some sort of postmortem twitch. Or a reflection off his visor may have fooled the computer into thinking that he had opened his eyes. Remember, what you saw was a digitized image of a photograph stored in the database. They weren’t his real eyes.”

“Something moved. If something moved, then he’s alive. That’s all I need to know. Look, either you’re with me or not.”

Endicott hesitated before responding. “I’m with you. How are you going to climb down to him?”

Nelson removed the binoculars from his helmet and surveyed the surrounding area. The prospects did not look promising. The side of the volcano was almost perfectly perpendicular to the ground. Carter had managed to land on a lone ledge that jutted out from the side like an outstretched hand. It was a sheer drop of 180 meters from the ledge to the surface. The only approach was from above.

“Well,” he began, “I’m going to rappel down.”

“Is that wise?”

“If I don’t go, he’ll die.”

“But if you do go, you both may die. You don’t have the proper gear.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Are you with me or not?”

“I’m with you.” Endicott’s reply lacked enthusiasm.

Nelson crawled backwards from the edge until he reached a safe distance, then stood up and walked to the boulder to which he had tied the rope. The boulder seemed large enough. He leaned against the rope and jerked it several times. The boulder did not budge. He returned to a point a couple of meters from the edge of the cliff and tossed the rope over.

“You may want to take the sonar stick with you,” Endicott suggested.

“Why?”

“You’re going to need more than the shovel to immobilize that leg.”

Nelson fastened the stick to his utility belt. He wrapped the rope under his leg and across his shoulder, then turned his back to the edge of the cliff and took a deep breath. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins.

“I’m going over,” he said.

He leapt backwards off the ridge. The rope slid rapidly through his hands. He gripped down tightly, and his body, which had been free-falling, came swinging toward the cliff. He kicked his legs out. The impact was lighter than he had expected. He realized it was due to the weaker gravity. He pushed off from the rock and rappelled until he was a meter above the body. He lowered himself onto the ledge. It was barely wide enough to hold both of them.

The leg that was sticking straight up seemed fine, but the other was twisted, and the boot was pointing in an unnatural direction. Nelson closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He bent down next to the body, keeping the rope taut, and verified that the life-support systems were still functioning. He looked into the helmet. Carter’s eyes were closed. His mouth gaped open. A thin streak of blood ran from a nostril to the corner of his mouth. Nelson gently shook the helmet—Carter’s head rolled back and forth as if it were unattached.

“I’m on the ledge, next to him. Unable to invoke a response. His leg is definitely broken. It’s a miracle his suit wasn’t punctured.”

“Is he breathing?”

“I’m not sure.”

“How badly is the leg broken?”

“Compound fracture most likely. Bent backwards at the kneecap.”

“Above or below?” “Below.”

“Is he bleeding?”

“There’s some blood from his nose, but not much.”

“Feel for blood pooling at the bottom of his suit.”

Carter was bent at the waist with his rear jammed down between two rocks. Reaching underneath, Nelson grabbed a handful of material and squeezed.

“It seems dry.”

“If it is a compound fracture, his liquid cooling garment may have contained the bleeding. We must assume he is alive. You’ll want to lay him out on level ground so that you can straighten out that leg and immobilize it. Is there enough room on the ledge?”

Nelson looked down at the ledge and decided if he pushed away some of the rock he could make room. “I’ll manage.”

“There’s a problem though.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t want to disrupt the circulation of the liquid cooling garment when you wrap the leg. The main coolant tube runs down the outside of the leg. You’ll want to position the sonar stick adjacent to the tube so that when you tie it down, the rope does not pinch it shut. Position the handle on the inside of the leg. Tie the two together, firmly, but not too tight, and not directly over the break. Use as much rope as you can spare.”

To immobilize the leg he realized he was going to have to pull Carter out from the rocks between which he was wedged. That would require some leverage. He cleared the ledge as best as he could, sweeping the loose rocks over the edge with his boot. Bending over, he grabbed under Carter’s armpits and pulled upward. Something dug tightly into Nelson’s arms. Surprised, he stopped and saw that Carter’s hand had grabbed onto it. He looked into the helmet. Carter’s face was twisted into a grimace of excruciating pain.

“He’s alive,” Nelson said with an overwhelming sense of relief.

“Thank God.”

Nelson realized that he was aggravating Carter’s pain by holding him in such an awkward position and that he had to act quickly. “Sorry, pal, but I have to get you out of there.” He tightened his grip and jerked upward. There was less resistance than he had expected. Carter hung in his arms, limp, the broken leg dangling loosely at the knee. He was unconscious. The sight of the leg caused Nelson to shudder. He took a step backwards, mindful of the drop, and carefully laid Carter on the ledge. He twisted the leg, which felt rubbery, into its normal position. Perspiration was dripping from his eyebrows into his eyes, and the salty sting caused his vision to blur. Because of his helmet, he was unable to wipe the perspiration from his eyes. He pulled up the rope that had been dangling over the edge and cut off a piece from the end.

“I have the rope,” he said hoarsely.

“Do you have anything that you can pad the splints with?” Nelson thought for a moment. “The sample-collection bags might work.”

“They should do fine. Wrap the two splints with the bags, then tie the splints to the leg.”

As Nelson wrapped the leg, he watched Carter to see if he would come to. His face was pale white. The muscles in his jaw twitched as Nelson lifted the leg to pass the rope underneath. He waited for the muscles to relax before proceeding. Beads of perspiration had formed on Carter’s brow. Nelson was careful not to apply too much pressure as he tightened the rope. He checked the splints to make certain they were firmly in place.

“I’m going to tie the rope around his chest, then climb up. I’ll pull Al up once I get to the top.”

“You sure?”

“You have any better ideas?”

“I wish I did.”

Gathering the remainder of the rope, Nelson wrapped it tightly under Carter’s arms and tied a knot in front. He started to feel hot inside his suit. Looking up at the cliff, he wrapped the rope once around his wrist and placed his right boot vertical to the rock wall. He lifted his body upward by pulling down with his arms. The backpack weighed thirty pounds, seventy-nine pounds on Earth, which was thirty pounds of deadweight that shifted his center of gravity away from the cliff. The climb was more difficult than he had anticipated. The side of the volcano seemed like a wall of glass. Unable to locate a foothold, he scaled the first six meters hand over hand. He rested against the rope, which was secured fast to his security belt. His feet were planted firmly against the rock, his body perpendicular to the cliff. Another six meters passed, and his arms were growing tired, and despite his regular workouts he was feeling his age and wondering how much strength he had left. He dug his feet into a small crack. He started to turn his head to look down at Carter but felt himself losing his balance and decided not to. He continued upward and less than three meters from the ridge found a small ledge on which he could stand. He rested for nearly a minute, then climbed the remainder of the distance hand over hand. With one final burst of strength he pulled himself up onto the ridge. He was breathing hard, staring up at the pink sky, wondering how he was going to lift Carter by himself.

He calculated, in his mind, how much Carter weighed. Twofifths of one-eighty was seventy-one plus thirty pounds for the backpack and ten pounds for the suit was a total of one hundred and eleven pounds. Much less than he would have weighed on Earth, but still a considerable amount of weight to be hauled eighteen meters. He looked down over the edge and saw that Carter had not moved.

Nelson positioned himself a meter from the edge of the cliff. Gathering his strength, he gripped the rope firmly with both hands and pulled. When he had sufficient slack he wrapped the rope around his waist by making a full turn with his body. His arms were growing weak when Carter’s helmet finally appeared at the edge of the cliff. He wrapped the rope around his waist one final time. Carter’s hand reached up over his head and grabbed the lip of the ledge. Nelson watched with astonishment as Carter completed the final part of the climb by himself. Setting himself down, he smiled at Nelson with a grin that said, now that wasn’t so bad, was it?

“Well, I’ll be . . .” Nelson said.

“What’s going on?” Endicott asked.

“He’s conscious.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re both at the top of the ledge,” Nelson replied, not taking his eyes off of Carter’s silly grin. His head was rolling back and forth as if he were drunk. Nelson mouthed the words, “Don’t worry.”