they been watching you on their TVs for more’n thirty years. You’re as respected as ol’ Walter Cronkite, for lord’s sake. You’ve got to be the one who faces the media.'
He got up from the bed and paced to the curtained window.
'You can tell the world what’s happening, Alberto. Tell it your way, the right way. Otherwise those reporters are going to get bits and pieces from leaks and hints and they’ll put their own suspicions and guesswork on the air. It’ll be a fiasco, a grade-A numero-uno disaster for the Mars Project. Every enemy the project’s ever had will be on TV screamin’ and yellin’ their heads off. You know how they work. If you don’t get in front of the cameras, and damned soon, they will.'
'But my daughter…'
'Do it for her!' Edith snapped. 'You want her to die up there while people down here are saying that exploring Mars was all a big mistake? A big waste of money?'
'I don’t know if I can do it.'
'Nobody else can.'
His back was still to her. He pulled the window drapery open a little. 'My god, there are three TV trucks down on the parking lot — and another one pulling in.'
'Somebody’s already leaking the word,' Edith said.
Brumado turned back toward her, his face grim, doubtful. 'I could call Kaliningrad. If they have no objection to your plan…'
'Whether they do or not, you’ve got to do it. You’re not officially part of the project. They can’t control you.'
He looked as if he were going to object, but instead he went to the telephone.
'I’ll go downstairs and tell the guys in the lobby that you’ll talk to them,' Edith said.
Brumado looked up at her, hesitated a fraction of a second, then nodded unhappily.
Edith went out into the corridor, heading for the elevator. It’s the right thing to do, she kept telling herself. Whether or not it helps me, it’s the right thing to do. And maybe I can get through to Jamie. Maybe they’ll let us talk to them once we break the story.
SOL 40: SUNDOWN
The thermometer on the instrument cluster built into Jamie’s left sleeve read forty below zero Celsius. He almost smiled. The one place where the Celsius and Fahrenheit scales agree: forty below is forty below on either system. Cold, no matter which way you read it.
The sun had just touched the jagged horizon, throwing immensely elongated shadows across the broken, rocky ground. Jamie saw his own shadow reaching out incredibly, stretching far out in front of him. But nowhere near far enough.
He had been pushing forward around the rippled sand that betrayed the dust-drowned crater. When he turned to see the tiny lifeless sun he also saw his rover, two thirds sunk in the red dust, disappointingly close. He had been trudging around the ghost crater’s perimeter for more than an hour, yet it seemed that he had hardly begun his trek to the second vehicle.
The cable stretched from the connection on his harness backward toward the partially buried rover, most of it resting on the ridged surface of the sand. The farther I go around the crater, the more cable’s going to be lying on the sand, Jamie said to himself. That shouldn’t cause any problems. I don’t think it will. Shouldn’t be any problem at all. The cable won’t sink into the damned sand. Even if it does we can winch it taut if I get to Vosnesensky’s rover. Not if. When. When.
He kept walking. Even when he turned backward he kept his legs moving toward his goal: that second rover where Vosnesensky and Reed and Ivshenko were waiting for him.
It was getting dark. And cold. Jamie’s legs felt rubbery, weak. Cold saps your strength. Got to keep going.
He walked at the slow, steady pace he had learned from his grandfather when they had hunted mule deer up in the mountains. 'Just get your rhythm right,' Al would say, 'and you can walk all damned day, no trouble. It’s all in the rhythm. Don’t hurry. Don’t rush. The doer won’t run very far. You can walk him until he’s exhausted and ready to drop at your feet.'
Yeah. Right, Grandfather. If you’re healthy. If you’ve been getting all your vitamins. If you’re breathing real air and it’s not forty below zero and dropping fast.
It was getting too dark to see the ground. Jamie reached up and turned on the lamp atop his helmet. Don’t want to step into the sand by mistake. Wonder how golfers would like it here on Mars? Sand traps two kilometers wide. No water hazards. Maybe we ought to bring a set of clubs here the next time. Might start a demand for tourism. Take your vacation on Mars. Climb the solar system’s tallest mountain. Drink a glass of Martian Perrier. Put your bootprints where no one has stepped before.
'Jamie! Did you hear me?'
He snapped his attention to Vosnesensky’s demanding voice. 'What? What did you say?'
'I asked if you had turned on your helmet lamp. It is becoming quite dark.'
'Yes, it’s on.'
'Can you see the ground well enough to guide yourself?'
Jamie looked down. He was trudging along the hard-packed stony soil. A dozen paces to his right the rippled sand began.
'Yep. I can see okay.'
'Good. Good.'
Then Jamie realized what Vosnesensky’s call meant. The Russian could not yet see Jamie’s light. He was still too far away from the rover to be seen. He had miles to go.
They chattered back and forth, Jamie, the two cosmonauts, even Connors and the women. Jamie listened to the tension in their voices even when they tried to joke and banter. They’re scared. They’re all scared. And I am too.
It was fully night now. Jamie heard the soft breeze of Mars sighing past him. Gentle world, he told himself. If only you weren’t so damned cold. Why did you make it so cold, Man Maker? Or why did you make us so weak? Did Coyote trick you into it?
'Talk,' Vosnesensky said. 'Speak, Jamie. Let us know that you are all right.'
'It’s getting… too damned cold… to talk much,' he said. He was panting now. His legs felt stiff, hurting.
'Turn up the heater in your suit to maximum.'
'Did that already.'
'Make certain.'
'Right.'
The heater dial was already turned to max, Jamie knew. He tried it again and the dial would turn no further. Too bad we don’t have a thermostat control for the planet. Stop the temperature from dropping any lower. Be a nice touch.
He kept plodding along, one foot after the other. One step at a time. I can outwalk any mule deer in these mountains. I can walk all the way around Mars if I have to. Show me how, Grandfather. Lead me.
Jamie remembered the fetish, stuck in his coverall pocket. He wished he could worm his arm free and reach into the pocket for it. He knew its power would warm him, bring him strength.
The cable suddenly pulled taut, yanking Jamie off his feet. He toppled over backward and hit the ground with a thud.
'Holy shit,' he muttered.
'What?'
'What is it? What’s wrong?'
Vosnesensky in one ear, Joanna in the other.
'Cable’s stuck,' Jamie said. He struggled up to his knees, tugged on the cable. 'Christ, it feels as if…' he had to take a gulping breath '… as if the winch motor’s frozen.'
