Mars

'I believe I should say at the outset,' the Russian interjected, 'that serious objections have been raised in the Soviet Federation about the wisdom of committing to a second expedition so soon.'

The Japanese said rapidly, 'The death of Professor Konoye has not dimmed Japan’s enthusiasm for further missions. If anything, my people feel we must press on to honor his memory.'

The ex-Texan glanced at Brumado, then at his fellow directors across the table. 'Let’s get one thing straight here: How do you all feel about the next mission?'

'I am in favor of it, of course,' the Russian answered immediately. 'I would go myself if they would allow me!'

The Japanese grinned. 'Yes, of course.'

'As I see it,' Brumado said gently, 'we have a sacred trust. Project Mars must not end as Project Apollo did. We must continue the exploration of the planet and its moons.'

The American pushed his chair back. It screeched against the uncarpeted floor. 'Okay,' he said as he lumbered to his feet. 'We’re agreed as to what we want. Now we’ve got t’ figure out how to get it.' He walked around his desk and, bending down slowly, opened a panel and took out four glasses and a bottle of Kentucky sour mash. 'Fuel for thought,' he said, a bright grin spreading across his ruddy face.

Three hours later the bottle sat empty on the conference table and Brumado, who had hardly touched the one glass poured for him, was summarizing: 'The Vice-President told me personally that she is willing to make a statement supporting the further exploration of Mars if we can get Dr. Waterman to make a statement supporting her candidacy.'

'Better get her statement in writing,' said the American, grumpily. 'And get it down on paper before you let the Indian open his mouth.'

'I’m not certain that Dr. Waterman would be willing to make such a statement,' Brumado admitted.

'Then you’ll have to convince him. Use your powers of persuasion. I’d do it myself,' the former Texan said, 'but if anybody up on the Hill found out about it they’d pin my balls to the wall and the Mars Project would go down the toilet in half a minute.'

The Japanese turned to the Russian. 'What would be the reaction of the Soviet Federation if the United States makes a strong statement of support for further missions?'

The Russian shrugged elaborately. 'With both the U.S.A. and Japan lined up in favor, I think the forces of enlightenment in Moscow would gain enough strength to override the objections of the obstructionists.'

The American hiked a shaggy eyebrow. 'Does that mean yea or nay?'

They all burst into laughter. 'Yes,' said the Russian. 'Positively yes.'

Then all three of the project directors fixed their eyes on Brumado.

'It’s up to you, then, Alberto old pal,' said the American. 'None of us can do it. You’ve got to convince this redskin that he’s got to support the Vice-President.'

'I hope he will,' said Brumado.

'It’s either that or the program ends when they return to Earth.'

Brumado nodded his agreement. Then, 'Has Waterman been kept from taking personal messages? Is he being held incommunicado while he is on Mars?'

The three project directors glanced uneasily at one another. The Russian said, 'Once the American government refused to release his interview tape we assumed that he was not to have any contact with the media.'

'Far as I know,' said the American, 'he hasn’t squawked. Hasn’t even asked to send any personal messages, I don’t think.'

'No personal communications at all?' Brumado asked. 'Not to his family, his friends?'

The Russian shrugged. 'Apparently no one has tried to reach him, nor has he attempted to call anyone.'

'Not even his parents?'

'Apparently not.'

'Why do you ask?' said the Japanese director.

Brumado replied, 'I ran into a young woman who says she is a friend of Waterman’s, and she has been denied permission to speak with him.'

The American leaned back in his chair again. 'I don’t see why she can’t make a tape, like everybody else’s friends and relatives are doing. Then Waterman can decide if he wants to answer her or not. That’s the way we’ve been handling personal messages, what with the time lag and the busy schedule those guys have down on the surface of the planet.'

'That makes sense,' Brumado said, 'I will tell her that.'

SOL 13: MORNING

'The computer enhancements prove that your ‘village’ is nothing more than a natural formation of rock,' said Ravavishnu Patel.

Jamie shook his head stubbornly. 'The enhancements prove nothing of the sort.'

'I’m afraid I must agree with Rava,' Abdul al-Naguib said. 'You are leaping to an erroneous conclusion.'

The three men — two geologists and the Egyptian geophysicist — were sitting tensely on spindly stools in front of a computer display screen in the geology lab. The area was partitioned off from the rest of the dome, its shelves cluttered with bare rocks and transparent plastic cases that held core samples and stoppered bottles filled with red soil. A long table set against one partition held analysis equipment and computer modules, their display screens flickering orange and blue, showing curves and graphs of data from the global network of sensors that changed every few moments.

'Look,' Jamie said to the others, 'the computer enhancement of the videotape shows a nicely enlarged view of that formation. I’m not saying it’s artificial; all I’m saying is that the enhancement really doesn’t prove it’s natural.'

'But it cannot be artificial!' Patel insisted. 'Even Father DiNardo back in Rome agrees it has to be a natural formation!'

Jamie gave him a stern look. 'Rava, science doesn’t work on opinions. We learn by observing, by measuring. For god’s sake, when Galileo first reported seeing sunspots, there were priests in Rome who claimed the spots must have been in his telescope because everybody knew that the sun was perfect and without blemish.'

Naguib smiled in a fatherly way. Older than either of the two geologists, he saw himself as the voice of mature wisdom in this emotional debate.

'We have observed,' the Egyptian said patiently. 'We have measured. Thu most powerful tools we possess toll us that the formation is natural, a formation of rocks and nothing more.'

'The evidence says nothing of the sort,' Jamie snapped. 'You’re looking at the evidence with a bias against it being artificial.'

'And you are looking at the same evidence with a bias against it being natural,' Patel countered.

'Which proves to me that the evidence is not conclusive,' Jamie said.

Naguib asked, 'But how could it be artificial? You are presupposing that an intelligent species once existed on Mars and built itself a village — in the same manner that your own ancestors built cliff dwellings? That is so unlikely that it beggars the imagination.'

Patel added, 'When you make a large claim, you must have strong evidence to back it up.'

'Right!' Jamie said. 'I agree! We have to go back to Tithonium Chasma and see that formation close up. Go right up to it and put our hands on it.'

The Hindu geologist stared at Jamie as if he had uttered blasphemy. 'Go there! And what of my excursion to Pavonis Mons? Do you think your make-believe ‘village’ is more important than the Tharsis volcanoes?'

'If that ‘village’ really is artificial, it sure as hell is more important than anything else,' Jamie shot back.

'The next thing you know, you will want to go all the way to Acidalia to examine the ‘Face’!'

Photographs from early spacecraft orbiting Mars had found a rock formation that resembled a human face when the sun hit it at the right angle.