Across the rubble-strewn plain they drove, south by east, the dwarf sun lowering toward the rugged horizon, throwing long blood-red shadows from every rock on the barren desert. To Vosnesensky the shadows looked like the lean claws of dead men’s hands reaching for him.
Back in the midsection of the command module Tony Reed felt every bump and dip of the rover as he sat gripping the edge of the bench with both hands. This is madness, he told himself. Why did I ever talk myself into coming out here? Penance? This is carrying expiation for one’s sins a bit too far, really.
But he stayed silent, uncomplaining, trying to hold down the fear that was building up inside him. We’re out in the middle of the empty Martian plain in this piddling little vehicle. If anything goes wrong, anything at all, we’re all dead men.
Up in the cockpit the comm unit buzzed. Ivshenko turned it on and Dr. Li’s long sallow face appeared on the screen. His mouth curved downward, his eyes looked weary, defeated.
'I have spent half the day arguing with Kaliningrad,' Li said, his voice hoarsely rasping. 'The mission controllers are adamant.'
Vosnesensky grunted, but kept the rover moving forward.
'They insist that the crew in the dome must be evacuated to orbit, and only afterward can an attempt be made to rescue the team in the rover.'
'Have you told them that we are already on our way to the canyon?'
Li slowly shook his head. 'No. I told them that we do not agree either with their assessment of the situation or their decision.'
'Yet they still insist?'
'Yes.'
'So what do you intend to do?'
The expedition commander tugged nervously at one end of his moustache. 'It is my duty to command you to turn around and return to the dome so that you can carry out the orders from mission control.'
'Very well,' Vosnesensky said. 'You have done your duty.' He reached across the control panel and turned off the communications unit. Then he slowed the rover to a halt.
Ivshenko was looking at him worriedly. 'You’re going to turn around?'
Heaving a great pained sigh, Vosnesensky said, 'Don’t be an idiot. You drive for the next two hours while I nap. If we go all night we could reach the canyon rim by midday tomorrow.'
Oliver Zieman stared at the comm screen.
He sat alone in the command section of the dome; most of the others were down sick. Dr. Yang was in the infirmary, running still more tests. Zieman scratched his head, thinking furiously. He had not expected a crisis of command.
Dr. Li’s image on the screen looked pained, tortured. He must be spending all his time right there in the command module, Zieman thought. He must be living there night and day. He looks almost as bad as the scurvy cases.
'We have a very difficult situation on our hands,' Li said to the astronaut, 'and I want to be certain that you are fully aware of all the implications.'
'Yes, sir,' said Zieman, almost eagerly.
'Mission control has issued an order to abandon the dome and return the entire base crew here to orbit,' Li said.
'But the rover team…'
Li raised a long slim finger to silence the astronaut. He continued, 'Kaliningrad reasons that we must think of the health and safety of the greatest number first. They are prepared to abandon the base and evacuate everyone in the dome.'
Zieman swiftly thought, That means I’ll have to pack them aboard the L/AVs myself. Eight of us, counting me. Can’t fit that many in a single L/AV. Who in hell’s going to pilot the second vehicle? Mironov and Abell are in no shape for it, and Dmitri’s off with Vosnesensky and Reed.
'After the contingent from the dome is safely in orbit,' Li was saying, 'and we have all the astronauts and cosmonauts here, we can use the final landing/ascent vehicle to attempt to rescue the four in the rover.'
'Then you want Vosnesensky to turn back,' Zieman said.
'I have ordered him to do so. He has refused.'
Refused! A burning jet of fear shot through Zieman. A man can’t refuse to carry out orders! That’s crazy! The whole mission could fall apart if we don’t follow orders.
Li waited a moment for his words to register with Zieman. Then he said, 'Vosnesensky has tied my hands. I cannot order the evacuation from the dome with only one healthy astronaut present there. I cannot send Tolbukhin and Klein down to you because that would use the last remaining lander. It would mean abandoning the team in the rover altogether.'
'Yeah. Right.' He still felt stunned that Vosnesensky had disobeyed orders. Of all the people on this mission! Vosnesensky, the straightest of the straight arrows.
'If Ivshenko were with you it would be possible to lift all personnel there in two of the vehicles,' Li said, stating the obvious. 'Since he is off with Vosnesensky, I cannot order the dome evacuated.'
'Yessir. I understand,' said Zieman.
'That means you will be in charge of the personnel in the dome until Vosnesensky returns.'
Zieman nodded wordlessly, thinking, If he returns. If.
SOL 40: MORNING
Just as he had expected — no, as he had known — there was a stairway cut into the sheer wall of the cliff, leading up to the city built in the giant cleft high above.
Jamie stood in the brightly warm sunlight of New Mexico even though the sky was a delicate Martian pink. He slid his helmet visor up, knowing he no longer needed his hard suit to protect him. He was coming home, his true home, where two worlds met and blended in the unity and balance that he had unconsciously sought since childhood. For the first time in his life Jamie felt in harmony with the world, with both his worlds, with all the worlds.
He climbed the stairs slowly, almost unwilling to end the happiness, the peacefulness of this moment. Yet he knew that at the top his people would be waiting to welcome him. Like an ancient priest of the Old Ones climbing the temple stairs in solemn dignity, Jamie moved his booted feet from one stone stair to the next. He saw that the steps had been cut into the living rock long ages ago; their stone surfaces had been worn smooth and saddle- backed by countless generations of climbing feet.
Piece by piece his protective hard suit disappeared as he climbed. His helmet vanished first, and he could drink in the clean cool air of the true world. Then his boots, the torso shell, the leggings. By the time he reached the top he was naked and possessed nothing except the bear fetish that his grandfather had given him hundreds of millions of kilometers ago.
Sweat trickled along his flanks, his legs, ran down his face. The air was cool but the sun warmed him, filled him with its life-giving energy.
He was nearing the top of the stairway. He could hear the breeze sighing, hear fully leafed trees up there calling to him. He looked down at the fetish in his hand and the bear smiled at him. Only a few steps more, my son, said his grandfather’s voice. Only a few steps more.
Jamie reached the top. The city was there, just as he had known it would be. Magnificent. Straight clean walls of fresh adobe brick. Tier upon tier of houses rising to the top of the cleft where the overhanging rock sheltered them like the protective arm of god.
'It is good,' Jamie said. 'Ya’aa’tey.'
His grandfather appeared before him, young and strong and naked as Jamie himself. 'It is good,' his grandfather said.
All the people poured out of their homes, thronging into the central plaza where Jamie stood with his grandfather, smiling, singing, carrying wreaths of flowers that they put over Jamie’s head. The women were
