Rescue Mode - eARC (43 page)

Harper filled him in on the NexGenPro analysis of what could come from the Martian organic chemicals.

“What’ll keep me from going public with that information tomorrow?”

“Absolutely nothing. Except that I’ll withdraw my offer and you won’t have my help winning the next election.”

Donaldson muttered, “Let me think about it. I’ll have to talk to my people, and - ”

“No. I need your answer now. Right here and now.”

The senator looked away from the president, his eyes scanning the room and settling on the painting of the Yosemite Valley hanging on the opposite wall.

Pointing toward the painting, President Harper smiled and said, “Once that was the frontier, Bill. Wild and dangerous. Men and women died trying to tame it. Now it’s a National effing Park. Oh, and do I need to remind you of all the money the robber barrons made by taking advantage of the resources they found as they moved west?”

Donaldson nodded. “I see what you mean.” He drew in a deep breath, then said, “All right, give me a few weeks to break this gently. But I’ll get my subcommittee to reinstate the follow-on mission.”

“And you’ll back future human space missions?”

“I guess I’ll have to, won’t I?” Suddenly the senator broke into a reluctant grin. “Hell, I might even name you as next director of NASA.”

Harper laughed. “No. No thanks. Saxby will recover and you’ll want some continuity at NASA.” Then, his expression turning sly, he added, “A Supreme Court appointment would be good enough.”

Donaldson looked as if he wanted to puke. But he kept his mouth shut and got to his feet.

They stood up. Shook hands. The president walked the senator to the door, one arm around Donaldson’s shoulders.

“I want to thank you, William. You’ve made a hard decision, but you’ve made the right one.”

Donaldson looked less than happy, but he managed to mutter, “Thank you, Mr. President.”

Beaming his best smile, Harper said, “Next year, this time, I’ll be calling you Mr. President.”

Despite himself, Donaldson grinned.

Fleming led Donaldson and his aide out of the room. Harper went to the coffeetable, drained his glass and refilled it.

When Fleming returned, she asked the President, “Well, what do you think?”

“I think we’d better lavish a lot of praise on that sonofabitch once he reinstates the funding for the follow-on. We’ve got to make sure he stays bought.”

Fleming nodded knowingly.

December 24, 2035

23:30 Universal Time

Mars Landing Plus 49 Days

The
Arrow

“Merry Christmas, Bee.” Virginia was smiling warmly as she handed Benson a folded slip of paper.

They were in the cupola, which they had turned into their private little nest. Beyond the observation ports, the stars hung solemnly in the infinite black sky. One of the points of light was blue and beckoning: Earth.

“Thank you, Jin,” said Benson as he carefully opened the single sheet and looked down at the paper.

Virginia had drawn an elaborate scene: a cutaway view of the
Arrow
with a Christmas tree prominently displayed in the galley, bright with lights. At its base, instead of gift boxes, was a scattering of reddish rocks: Mars rocks, he surmised. Standing around the tree were caricatures of the three of them, Benson, Virginia, and Taki. They were actually well done, he thought, looking happy and healthy with broad smiles on their faces. Even Prokhorov was there, floating above them like a Christmas ghost, smiling also.

Feeling guilty, he mumbled, “I didn’t get anything for you. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve given me love and joy, Bee. Every day, not just for Christmas.”

He felt his cheeks warm.

Taki’s voice on the intercom broke into their moment. “Hey, you guys, front and center! We’re getting a call from the President of the United States!”

Benson blinked with surprise, then pushed against the cold observation port to move away from the hatch. With a sweeping gesture, he said, “Ladies first.”

“The president?” Virginia marveled. “Must be a Christmas greeting.”

They floated up to the command center, where Taki was hovering in mid-air, facing the communications screen. A redheaded woman was saying, “The president will be with you in a minute.”

“We’re here,” said Benson, as he and Virginia coasted up on either side of Taki.

“Relax. They won’t hear you for at least half an hour,” Taki reminded them.

The screen now showed the presidential seal, nothing more. Taki muttered, “Take your time, Prez, we’ve got nothing better to do than—”

A male voice announced calmly, “The President of the United States.”

President Harper’s heavyset, silver maned face filled the screen. He was smiling, and to Benson it didn’t look like the plastic smile of a professional politician. Harper looked genuinely pleased.

“Good evening and merry Christmas,” he said. “I want to give you my personal best wishes and tell you that the whole nation—the whole world—is praying for your safe return home.”

Standard political fare, Benson thought.

“I have some good news for you. Bart Saxby is out of danger, and it looks as if he’ll make a full and speedy recovery.”

The three of them smiled appreciatively.

The president went on, “This is a private message, people. No news coverage, nobody else in the loop. Even the technicians who set up this communication have left the room. Just you folks on the
Arrow
and the
Fermi
habitat. I want to give you all a sort of Christmas present.

President Harper’s expression was somewhere between delighted and ecstatic. “I wanted to tell you personally that we’re going to reinstate the funding for your follow-on mission. We’re not going to leave your teammates stranded on Mars. We’re going to go back and rescue them, and we’re going to continue exploring.”

“That’s the important point,” President Harper emphasized. “We’re going to continue exploring. Your mission to Mars is only the first one. There will be others.”

Taki clapped her hands. “Wonderful!”

“I know that you won’t be able to reply for another half hour or more,” the president was saying, “but I couldn’t resist giving you the good news in person. Merry Christmas to you all! And when you return to Earth, I’ll be there to personally shake your hands.”

The screen went blank.

For several heartbeats neither Taki, Virginia, nor Bee said a word. Then they all started to speak at once.

Laughing, they finally said together, “Merry Christmas to you, Mr. President. And thanks for the good news.”

Ted Connover’s bandaged face appeared on the screen. “Did you just hear what I just heard?”

“Yes!” Benson said. “Looks like you’re going to get rescued.”

The time lag between Mars and the
Arrow
was less than a minute, but still the seconds ticked slowly.

Hi McPherson poked his bearded face into the camera’s view. “Well, I always figured they wouldn’t leave us stranded here. At least, I hoped so.”

“The president seemed very excited about it,” Virginia said, from behind Benson’s shoulder.

“His Christmas present to us,” said McPherson.

“Damned nice of him to call,” Taki said.

“Yeah, it was.”

Benson asked, “How’re you guys doing out there?”

“We’re fine,” Connover replied.

Amanda said, “We’ll take the bandages off Ted’s face in another day or so.”

Benson hiked a brow. “Oh, I don’t know. I think Ted looks better with part of his face hidden.”

“He might at that,” Catherine agreed. “It makes him look more mysterious.”

“Maybe you ought to cover up the rest of his face,” Benson joked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Connover groused. “And a Merry Christmas to you, too.”

“What do you want Santa Claus to bring you?” Virginia asked.

All four of the
Fermi
team answered as one voice, “Water!”

December 25, 2035

10:00 Universal Time

Mars Landing Plus 50 Days

Elysium Planitia

To McPherson, the novelty of going outside the habitat and walking on Mars would forever be exciting, filled with wonder. Even on Christmas day, he and Catherine had suited up and gone out onto the plain of Elysium.

But there was more than the thrill of adventure motivating them now. They had to find water. The
Fermi
’s water supply was running low, even with their reduced consumption and recycling.

Still, McPherson was especially excited as he and Catherine stepped out of the
Fermi
’s airlock and onto the rusty, rock-strewn sands of Elysium.

“We’re going to cross the path that the old Curiosity rover took when it explored Gale crater.” He was practically humming with glee.

Pointing to the hills rising in the distance, Catherine said, “It’s more than a two-hour walk.”

“A long way from here. We’ll barely get there before we have to turn around and start back.”

They both knew why they were heading out on such a long walkabout. The geology team back at mission control had picked that location as the best place to dig for water. According to their latest analysis, there was a shallow crater just to the east of where Catherine and Hi would be crossing the old rover’s track. The east wall of the crater had been in shadow for ages, raising the possibility that there might be ice close enough to the surface for their core sampler to reach it.

His elation melting, McPherson said, “We won’t have much time to look around, let alone drill for ice in more than one or two spots.”

Catherine opened the panel in the
Fermi
’s side that covered the core sampler. “It’s a shallow crater. We’ll carry the mole over its rim and rappel down the inner slope.”

“I’ll carry the mole,” McPherson said, taking the portable rig in his gloved hands. “You take the climbing stuff.”

Even in the gentle Martian gravity the core sampler felt heavy. But McPherson hefted it onto one shoulder and started off for the distant hills, with Catherine scampering to come up beside him.

Nearly two hours later they both stopped and stared. Even though they were expecting to see them, actually walking up to the weathered tracks made by the Curiosity rover filled them both with awe.

“Look,” said McPherson, letting the sampler slide from his shoulder to the ground. “It’s still here.”

The ridged tracks made by the old rover were clearly visible.

“After all these years,” Catherine murmured. She sank to her knees, inspecting the tracks closely.

“Like the tracks of an old wagon train, out west,” McPherson said.

“How far away is the rover?” asked Catherine

“Too far for us to get to it.” He pointed toward the hills rising over the horizon.

“
Quel dommage
,” she murmured. What a pity.

Hi stretched his hand to her and pulled Catherine to her feet. Then he shouldered the core sampler again and said, “We’d better keep moving. Still got a lot of ground to cover.”

Reluctantly, they left the tracks behind them, carefully stepping over the rutted trail so that they wouldn’t disturb them. They started a slow descent down a slight grade, heading for the shallow crater that mission control had identified. Catherine fell silent, and McPherson mused that even if they found ice in the crater and could liquefy it with power from a set of solar panels, it might be too far from the
Fermi
to pipe the water back to the habitat.

He shook his head. Find the water first. Then we’ll figure out a way to get it to the habitat.

Following the GPS signals from the network of satellites orbiting Mars, they found the crater about twenty minutes later. It was indeed shallow: McPherson thought they would be able to descend into it without using the mountaineering gear. But he remembered what had happened to Ted with the NaK and decided not to take any risks that they could avoid.

“Catherine, I’ll unlimber the mole while you set the anchors for the climbing rope.”

“Are you still comfortable going down there with the drill?” she asked.

“As long as you’re at the other end of the rope, I’ll make it down there and back.”

He connected the segments of the core sampler and lifted the ungainly-looking rig onto his shoulder once more.

He grinned at Catherine. “I feel like Queequeg.”

“Who?”

“The harpooneer in
Moby Dick
.”

“Ah,” said Catherine. “But there are no whales here.”

“No, and this isn’t a harpoon.” Hi said, as he stepped over the rocky rim of the crater.

“Hiram,” Catherine said as she clipped the climbing rope firmly around his waist, “perhaps we should both go down. Together.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Somebody’s got to stay up here and work the winch, in case I fall.”

She sighed audibly, but did not argue.

McPherson lifted his left hand to glance at the digital clock set among the instrument cluster on his wrist.
I’ll only have about forty-five minutes before we have to start back,
he thought.
Not enough time. Never enough time.

He reached the bottom of the crater. “Give me some slack,” he called to Catherine. “I need to move around.”

He unlimbered the core sampler, set it up on the hard-pan ground and unfolded the solar panels that provided its electrical power. With its usual bang-banging noise, the mole dug into the ground.

Ten minutes. Fifteen. McPherson scanned the crater bottom as he waited for the sampler to reach its maximum depth. The motor shut off automatically. Hiram put the motor in reverse and waited for the mole’s head to emerge from the rust-red surface.

“Anything?” Catherine’s voice made him wince. She was forgetting that she didn’t need to shout, despite the distance between them.

Fingering the dust-dry, crumbling dirt that the drill had brought up, Hi shook his head and answered. “Dry hole.”

Her silence spoke louder than words.

“It’s pretty flat down here,” he said. “I’m going to disconnect the rope and head over there.” He pointed to a jumble of smallish rocks in the shadow of the crater’s slope. “Looks interesting.”

“I don’t like you disconnecting,” Catherine said. “What if you fall?”