Battleground Mars (19 page)

“We need to agree a plan of approach,” he said when they were all gathered around him. “The first question is whether they’re looking for trouble. If they’ve got sentries posted, it’ll cause us problems.”

“I would have after the last time,” Rahm murmured.

“I agree. So we’ll act on that basis. The first job is to take out the sentries, then hit them with everything we’ve got.”

Rahm looked ahead to the Crater. It loomed high and dark in the distance. He felt a twinge of, something. What was it? He realized he was breathing in shallow gasps, a sure sign of fear. He had to overcome it.

“I’ll go ahead and deal with the sentries,” he heard himself saying.

“I’ll go with you,” Saul added promptly. “We could use the laser cannon again.”

“If you can carry it,” Damian said in a tone of voice that suggested he didn’t think it likely. Saul turned to Brad. “Unmount the gun. I’ll carry it with me.” As Brad went away, Saul looked around to Rahm. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m ok, why?”

“You look pretty red inside that helmet. I can hear your breath, you’re panting, is your air supply working.”

“Yes! Damnit, Saul, I’m fine, let’s get this done.”

He nodded. “Sure.”

They started on the long hike to the Crater. Saul had decided not to use the tripod, he wanted to use the heavy firepower of the laser cannon to knock out the sentries, not mount a full scale attack. That meant using speed and stealth.

“We were lucky last time, but I didn’t like the cannon stuck up on the tripod. If they’d seen us setting up, they’d have been on us straight away. I’ll handle it.” He peered inside Rahm’s helmet. “You sure you’re ok?”

“For fuck’s sake, Saul. I’m fine, now leave me alone and get on with it.”

“Right.”

They walked fast for the first four miles, and Saul carried the big gun as if it weighed no more than a pistol. Rahm found the going harder and harder, his chest hurt, he had to fight to take every breath. He recognized the beginnings of panic, the onset of that chilling, freezing feeling that would make all movement next to impossible. But no, he couldn’t allow it. He would fight his way through it this time. People were relying on him, he wouldn’t let them die. Not again. Then they spotted the sentries. There were two of them, luckily they were looking south, towards the Sea of Araby, the direction that they would have expected them to come from. Saul led the way carefully forward, darting from rock to rock, they found a narrow fault ravine which they were able to slide into and make their way forward by crawling on their stomachs. Rahm thought he would pass out, but he pushed on, fighting his way forward, dragging his body along. He fell further and further behind, by the time he caught up Saul had reached within a hundred yards of the sentries and was setting up the gun. He turned around as Rahm struggled along behind him, he was about to say something but he closed his mouth. Then he turned to him again.

“As soon as they’re gone, you need to signal Damian for them to bring those buggies here as fast as they can. I don’t think the drilling crew will hear the noise, you'll recall that sound doesn’t travel well on Mars. If they do, it’s too bad, so we’ll have to deal with it. You ready?”

Rahm nodded, too choked to speak. Saul stood up, aimed the cannon and fired several short bursts. The sentries were both hit.

“Go, go! Tell them to get moving, Rahm.”

But he couldn’t move. He lay there in the dust, unable to speak, to get up, to fight. Saul’s eyes narrowed. He snatched the communicator from him and made the call.

“This is Saul, the sentries are down. You need to come in fast before they notice anything. Don’t forget what Gabi said, to aim low. We need those breathing sets.”

“We copy that, Saul. Is Rahm ok?”

“Er, yeah, I think so. He hit his head, but he’s ok.”

Saul’s lie was the last thing he remembered before he passed out.

He returned to consciousness lying on the deck of the buggy.

“What happened?” he asked weakly.

Saul was sitting next to him. “You passed out, my friend. We’re not quite sure why, maybe you were running low on air. I don’t know, look, we’ll have to wait until we get back and ask the medic to check you over.”

“And the Taurons? Did you have to abandon the attack?”

“No.” Saul grinned. “It all went like clockwork, and we killed nine of the bastards. None of us were hit, so it was total success. Kacy checked out the breathing sets and brought back most of them, seven, I believe. One of Damian’s people is driving their transporter back.”

“You did well,” Rahm said. What he didn’t say was, ‘without me’. But he felt it. Once more, he’d fallen prey to the demon that had blighted his life on Earth and had now followed him to Mars. They reached Mars Base and drove through the airlock. A crowd of miners was waiting for them, Rahm managed to sit up and climb wearily out of the buggy. Gabi ran over to him.

“You look terrible, were you hurt?”

He shook his head. “No, just a small problem. I passed out.”

“What!” She looked at Saul. “What happened out there?”

He told her everything while Rahm slumped wearily against the body of the vehicle.

“Unconscious? You need to get yourself checked out, I’ll go with you.”

“No, I’m fine, really.”

He made to walk away from her, but his legs gave out and he felt the blackness descending on him as he started to fall. Saul stopped him before he hit the floor.

When he came to again, he was lying on a gurney in the tiny base hospital. Although he’d recovered consciousness, he felt worse than ever. Before, he’d simply frozen. Now it seemed to him that the presence of overwhelming danger had pushed him beyond the stage of a one-off attack. He was crumbling under the pressure. Maybe they were right; maybe he was not up to it, not able to perform a mission when he was under maximum stress. In which case, what was he? At that moment, he hated himself for the weakling he had become. He swung his legs to the ground and stood up. Already he felt better. Well, sure, he was back inside the safety of Mars Base. He knew they’d never trust him again to go out on a mission. Never trust him even to go out with the drilling teams for any reason, there was no place on Mars for men who couldn’t overcome the difficulties of the hostile environment and complete the job they were paid to do. He walked out of the hospital and along the deserted passageways to his quarters. He went inside and lay on his bunk. His life had effectively ended, and he knew what he had to do. He wasn’t going to carry on here and put everyone else’s life at risk. All he was now was a drain on their air. Well, there was one way that he could put an end to that. He thought of Gabi. He felt sorry for her, he was sorry the way things had turned out. He pulled out a pad and pen and started to write a note. This was something personal that had to be done by hand, not left on a tablet. When he’d finished he sealed it inside an envelope and addressed it to her. He looked at a half empty bottle of Bourbon on his desk. Why not, one last taste before the end. He took a long pull, then got up and went out to the garage.

The suit felt strangely different. It was as if he hadn’t worn this model before. He felt the material as it enclosed his body, the weight of the helmet when he locked it over his head. The tightness and constriction that he knew would ease as the suit adjusted to his body proportions and did the job it was supposed to do. He’d taken a portable air supply that was almost finished. The air was depleted, what was left was mostly carbon dioxide, someone else’s breath. He wouldn’t take a useable supply, they would be needed by people who could function, who could do their work without falling unconscious out of fear. Or maybe something else, maybe it wasn’t fear, it could be some kind of anomaly in his brain. The trouble was, here on Mars there was no room for that kind of a luxury. It was hard and harsh, cruel and unforgiving. He had to be as hard on himself as the environment was to all of them. Rahm pressed the button that activated the inner airlock door, as if in a dream he saw it hiss open. He walked in, firmly, proudly. This was one thing he could do as a man, not as a weak-kneed coward. He closed the inner door, equalized the pressure and opened the outer door. Then he stepped out onto the Martian surface for the last time. He started to walk. Step by step he drew further away from the building that had been his home for the past year and a half. His breathing was difficult, and he started to see stars he knew were caused by the excess amounts of carbon dioxide in the breathing set. He could manage that, as he had no need to do anything other than keep walking. When the air finally gave out, when the carbon dioxide overcame the oxygen and nitrogen he would just fade into the black oblivion. It was the only way to give his comrades a chance to live, by removing a drain on the air that was so vital for them to live. He started to hear voices as his senses left him for the last time. Strange, they sounded familiar.

He awoke lying on the gurney in the hospital. How could that be, was it all a dream? Faces were looking down at him. Saul and Gabi. He remembered the mission to Lyot Crater, when he’d collapsed, frozen in the face of the enemy. So the rest of it was his imagination. He felt embarrassed, but Saul’s words made him realize that he had imagined nothing.

“What the blazes were you doing, Rahm? For Christ’s sake, how could you even think it? We’re in enough trouble here, in case you haven’t noticed. We need you more than ever, and then you go and try a stupid stunt like that.”

“I’m sorry, my friend,” he muttered. “Did you come out to get me?”

“It was Gabi, she was checking over the gear you brought back from Lyot Crater. She had some news and she came looking for you.”

He looked at her. “Did you…?”

“Read your note? Yes, I did. I looked in your room and saw the envelope addressed to me. How could you even think it?”

He felt tired and depressed, they didn’t understand. “I thought of it because you can’t afford to carry any deadwood. There’s no place for anyone that can’t cut it has no place breathing air that other people need to save Mars Base. You’ve got your work cut out for you as it is.”

“Well, you certainly went to the heart of the problem.”

“What?”

“Breathing air. That’s what caused your problem at Lyot Crater. You had a faulty life support system, you’re lucky to be alive. I checked it out when you came back and found the problem, a missing component in the metering system.”

“So it was just an accident?”

She shook her head. “It was no accident.”

He felt numb. Someone had tried to kill him. There was only one obvious candidate. One man with whom he’d constantly had disagreements and would be glad to see him dead. Ryles!

“I’ll kill the bastard. Where is he?”

Saul held him down. “We don’t know that it was him, not yet. Kacy is looking around to see if she can find anything. If that missing part is somewhere in his kit, we’ll put the blame where it belongs. But so far, we can’t be sure. It would be best if he didn’t think you suspected him.”

Then it struck him. That problem hadn’t been caused by something inside his head. It was an attack, pure and simple. He’d deal with that, had dealt with attacks all his life. It was only when they were inside you that you couldn’t do anything about them.

“We need to search his quarters,” he exclaimed.

“Already being done. Kaz is on it, if there’s anything to be found he’ll find it. I’ve got some tasks to get on with, because we’re going out again tomorrow to hit those bastards.”

“I’ll be with you, Saul.”

His big toolpusher smiled. “I thought you’d say that. Are you sure you’re ok, that oxygen problem may take a while to get over.”

“I said I’m going.”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “It’ll be like old times. Just watch your air supply.”

“You mean watch Ryles.”

Saul shrugged. “Maybe.”

Gabi sat next to him, holding his hand. “I want you to promise me something, Rahm.”

“What’s that? To find a different job?”

“Hmm, that would be nice. But what I want is for you to take that test.”

“But, I can’t…”

She put a finger on his lips. “You’re the bravest person I know, Rahm. Bar none. When you thought you were causing a problem, you were prepared to end it all so that you wouldn’t be a drain on our air. That takes some guts.”

He started to protest, but she stopped him again.

“No, listen. When we get back to Earth, I want you to take that test. It would take a brave man, like it did to do the things I’ve seen you do here. Please, do it for me if not for yourself. “And if there’s nothing wrong?”

“Then there could have been any of a hundred reasons for what happened in Afghanistan. Just remember what happened at Lyot Crater. But if it is a brain problem, I don’t want you to suffer with it. They can put these things right these days, it’s not worse than having a tooth pulled.”

“I hate having teeth pulled.”

She smiled. “Me too. So do it for me?”

He thought for several minutes. But he knew when he was beaten. Besides, it may never happen. He didn’t want to voice the terrible reality that they may never get of this accursed planet alive. But it was true, a possibility that woke them all in the night with visions of choking to death on the remnants of their failing life support. Or perhaps freezing in the icy chill of the Martian temperatures. He put that thought out of his mind. For her, for all of them, they were going to get through this.