want a balance of nationalities and there’s no other Austrian in the group. Worse yet, he knew, the politicians are trying their damnedest to keep the numbers of Americans and Russians equal. And they count me as an American.
As he approached Dr. Li’s door he wondered for the thousandth time what he could do to change the situation. Why has he sent for me? Now that Li’s officially been named as expedition commander is he going to act as a scientist or as a politician? Can he help me? Will he, if he can?
Jamie knocked on Dr. Li’s door.
The position of expedition commander had been selected with extreme care by the politicians and administrators. He had to be a highly regarded scientist, a natural leader, an inspiration to the men and women whom he would command on another world. He had to be able to placate wounded egos and solve emotional problems among his sensitive scientists — and astronauts.
Most of all, he had to be from a neutral nation: neither East nor West, neither Arab nor Jew, neither Hindu nor Moslem.
Dr. Li Chengdu was an ascetically lean, sallow-faced man who had been born in Singapore of a Chinese merchant family, educated in Shanghai and Geneva, and was rumored to be in line for a Nobel Prize for his research in atmospheric physics: he had found a way to reverse the depletion of the ozone layer and close the long-dreaded ozone hole in the upper atmosphere. A man in his early fifties, he was young and hale enough to make the long journey to Mars, yet old and respected enough to be the unquestioned leader of the expedition in fact as well as in name.
'Enter please,' came Dr. Li’s voice, only slightly muffled by the thin pressed-wood door.
Jamie stepped into the room that served as Li’s office and living quarters. Li got to his feet from behind the desk that had been shoe-horned in between the bunk bed and the sloping curve of the outer wall. He was so tall that he had to stoop to avoid hitting his head against the curving ceiling panels.
The room had no personality in it at all, no stamp of an individual’s presence. Li had come in only a few days ago and was scheduled to leave with Jamie’s group the following morning. The desk was bare except for a laptop computer that hummed softly, its screen glowing a pale orange. The bed was made with military precision, blankets meticulously tucked in under the thin mattress. The one window was blocked by the plowed snow heaped against the side of the building. A strip of fluorescent lamps ran along the low ceiling, turning Li’s sallow skin tones into something almost ghastly.
When he had first met Dr. Li, two years earlier, Jamie had been surprised at the man’s height. Now he felt surprised all over again. Li was almost six-five, lean to the point of gauntness, a tall scarecrow of a man, with hollow cheeks and long slim fingers. The newly named expedition commander wore a soft velour shirt of deep charcoal that hung loosely on his thin frame.
'Ah, Dr. Waterman. Please sit down.' Li indicated the only other chair in the room, a government-issue piece of worn dull-gray steel with a thin plastic cushion that felt iron hard.
Li took his chair behind the desk once again. For a long moment he said nothing. He peered intently at Jamie, as if trying to see inside him. Jamie returned the gaze calmly. He had watched his grandfather conversing with other Navahos often enough; they were never in a hurry to speak. It was important to allow time for thought, for reflection, for sizing up the other man.
Jamie studied Li’s face. His hair was still dark, though receding from his high domed forehead. Decidedly oriental eyes, hooded, unfathomable; with the drooping moustache they made him look like an ancient Chinese sage, or perhaps the villain in an old-fashioned tale of intrigue. He ought to be dressed in a long silk robe and be living in a palace in Beijing, not stuck in the snow down at the ass end of the world.
There was a slightly cloying odor in the tiny room. Incense? Cologne? It almost smelled like marijuana.
'I have a favor to ask of you,' said Dr. Li at last. His voice had become soft, almost a whisper. Jamie found himself leaning forward slightly to catch his words over the incessant hiss of the air blowing through the heating ducts.
With an almost furtive glance at the orange display screen of the computer on his desk, Li went on, 'You have done very good work here — and in your other training activities, as well.'
'Thank you.' Jamie bowed his head slightly.
'I wonder if you would consider staying here for another six weeks?'
'Stay? Here?'
'The group you have been working with is scheduled to go to Utah next, I believe.' Another glance at the computer screen. 'Yes, survival training on high desert.'
Before Jamie could reply, Li added, 'I would appreciate it if you would remain here at McMurdo and help the next group to acclimatize themselves to the Antarctic environment. It would be extremely helpful to me and to your fellow scientists.'
Jamie’s mind was racing. He’s just been appointed expedition commander. It wouldn’t be smart to refuse his request. But why is he asking me to do this? Why is he asking me?
'Uh… the ten of us have been training pretty much as a unit, you know.'
'I realize that,' said Dr. Li. 'But you understand that these groupings made for training will not be the same as the teams selected for the actual flight.'
Jamie nodded, wondering what was going on and why.
'Among the group due to come here next is Dr. Joanna Brumado. She is an excellent microbiologist.'
'I’ve met her.'
Li nodded slowly. In his softest voice he said, 'Daughter of Alberto Brumado.'
Jamie leaned back in his chair. Now he understood. Alberto Brumado’s daughter would get special consideration. With the rest of the scientists it was sink or swim, survive the rigors of training or get scratched from the list of possible Mars team members. But with Brumado’s daughter the situation was different. They want to make sure she gets through her six weeks here without packing it in.
Because he did not know what else to do, Jamie said, 'I see. Okay, sure. I’ll stay over the next six weeks and help them all I can.'
Dr. Li smiled, but to Jamie it seemed more sad than happy. 'Thank you, Dr. Waterman. I am deeply grateful.'
Jamie got up from the chair. Dr. Li extended his hand and wished him good fortune.
It was not until he was halfway down the corridor on the way back to his own quarters that Jamie realized the implications of Li’s request. He would miss the next six weeks of training. He was being asked to act as a special teacher-guide-escort for Alberto Brumado’s daughter.
They had already scratched him from the Mars mission roster. He had been relegated to the status of an instructor. They had no intention of letting him go to Mars.
2
All the scientists under consideration for the Mars expedition had met one another, of course, and often more than once, as their training took them hopscotching around the world. But it had been many months since Jamie had seen Joanna Brumado. He had barely said a dozen words to the woman.
Jamie went to the entrance area of the snow-covered base, more to say good-bye to the men and women he had been training with than to welcome the new arrivals. His group members were already looking at him with pity in their eyes, sympathy for a man who was obviously not going to make it. Some of them almost shied away from him at that last moment, as if afraid to be contaminated by the touch of a loser.
Dr. Li took off one glove and shook Jamie’s hand solemnly, wordlessly, before departing. His hand felt dry and limp, like a dead lizard.
Jamie stood inside the doorway, just out of the cutting wind, wrapped in his bulky parka, and watched his ex-teammates trot out to the waiting bus that would take them to the airstrip scraped out of the ice shelf. The bus was towed by a huge earth mover with a snowplow attached to its front. Overkill, thought Jamie. The base’s streets had been plowed and there had been no snowfall for days.
Ten people, bundled up in hooded parkas so that you could not tell the women from the men, sprinted from
