'Yes. I know. But I would still like to wring his neck.'
Jamie tried to laugh. He patted Mironov on the shoulder and said, 'Carrying a grudge can be just as damaging as giving in to panic. Try to see things in perspective, Alex.'
The Russian grunted.
Jamie got out of the chair and headed back to the table where Naguib and Patel were still chatting.
'Okay,' Jamie said. 'Tomorrow morning we go back to the ravine — Rava, Alex, and me.'
'What about me?' Naguib asked as Jamie slid behind the opposite side of the narrow table.
'You stay inside and recuperate. You can analyze the samples we took today.'
'And who put you in charge?' Patel snapped. 'Who elected you the captain of this team?'
Jamie blinked with surprise. 'It just seems like the logical way to proceed. Abdul’s going to feel pretty stiff and sore tomorrow, I’m sure. That leaves you and me, Rava. And Alex.'
Patel’s nostrils flared. 'Yes. Of course. You and me and our cosmonaut supervisor. And then the next day we return to the dome,' he said angrily. 'And that will be the end of our three days here.'
Jamie leaned back on the bench, staring at Patel across the littered dining table, surprised at himself for expecting appreciation from his fellow geologist. Or even courtesy.
SOL 34: MORNING
Jamie awoke from the dream. For long moments he lay as still as death on his cot, gazing up at the plastic curve of the dome just starting to brighten with the new morning. At first he thought he was back in the rover, but then he recalled that they had returned from the excursion to Pavonis Mons a week ago. His sleep had been troubled by a strange, unsettling dream. It had not frightened him, exactly, but it had been disturbing.
He pulled himself up to a sitting position. Imagine dreaming you’re back in school. With a shake of his head he reminded himself that he was safe from that. He was on Mars. And this was the day they would start out for the canyon.
The first pink light of dawn began to fill the dome as Jamie scrubbed and shaved, then grabbed a quick breakfast of hot oatmeal, steaming coffee, and the inevitable vitamin supplement capsule — alone in the wardroom until the others began drifting in to begin the day.
He said a few brief good mornings as he made his way toward the storage lockers where the hard suits were kept. The dome felt different now. No longer the same place it had been when they had first landed. It was more than the mere fact that a dozen men and women had been living and working here for thirty-four days. Nearly five weeks ago the dome had been strange, scary, a new and untried womb of plastic and cold metal. Now it was home, safe and warm, the smell of coffee wafting even out to the lockers. Nearly five weeks of working and planning, arguing and joking, eating and sleeping, had given the dome a distinct human aura. The floor was scuffed from their boot treads. Jamie could feel the emotions that drenched the very air. It’s not the sterile dome full of equipment it once was. Not anymore. Our spirit fills this place now, he thought.
And today we leave this behind to go out to the canyon. No wonder I had an anxiety dream.
He passed the little greenhouse area where Monique Bonnet knelt beside the plant beds, nurturing them like a loving mother beneath the brightly glowing lamps. Even with the morning sun streaming in through the dome’s curved wall they kept the full-spectrum lights on all during the daylight hours. The transparent plastic of the dome stopped most of the infrared in the sunlight and all of the ultraviolet.
'How’s the farm?' Jamie asked.
Monique looked up from the big trays, rubbing a red smudge from her cheek. 'Quite well. See?' She gestured to the little green shoots poking out of the pink sandy ground. 'Before we return to Earth I will be able to make you la salade verte.'
'Still feeding them Perrier?'
'Of course. What else?'
Jamie smiled and Monique smiled back. She had taken over the management of the little garden, giving the plants Martian water and motherly care. Ilona and Joanna had left it mostly to her, despite the duties spelled out in the mission plan. Mars must agree with her, Jamie thought. Monique’s figure looks trimmer than it did when we first landed.
Does she really look better or am I just horny? Jamie asked himself. He did not feel especially driven. Tony must be lacing our food with sex suppressants, despite what he says. Probably a good thing, he tried to convince himself.
Looking at the wide trays filled with reddish dirt and green shoots, Jamie realized: We could live on Mars indefinitely, if we had to. If we had brought enough seeds, we could have started a regular farm, using Martian water and pulling in oxygen and nitrogen from the air. We could grow enough food to survive in this dome, turn it into a real base. A permanent home.
The next mission. That’s what we’ll have to do. Bring enough seeds to start a self-sufficient farm. Use the local resources. We can do that. We know it now.
Attitudes among the explorers had changed over their five weeks on Mars. Jamie was still the outsider, the loner, but now it was because he was the tacitly acknowledged leader of the group. He was no longer the afterthought, the last-minute replacement. Most of the work being done by the eleven others was aimed now at making a success of the coming traverse to Tithonium Chasma.
Patel was still surly, angry that his excursion to Pavonis Mons had been cut short. He kept himself busy analyzing the samples they had taken during their brief foray. The dating they got from the uranium-lead samples did not agree with that derived from the potassium-argon measurements. Patel and Naguib were spending all their free time trying to find out why. Vosnesensky, at first dour and morose about the considerable change in schedule, had gradually warmed up to the idea. Over the past two weeks he had become almost jovial. There was a fun- loving man underneath all that responsibility, Jamie realized.
Toshima worked closely with Jamie, squeezing every bit of information they could out of the data that the geology-meteorology beacons were amassing about the canyon region. Connors, Mironov, and Abell took turns flying the RPVs through the canyon, mapping it down to a few centimeters’ resolution.
Joanna and Ilona spent their time preparing for the biology experiments they would carry out in the canyon, below those mists, down on the valley floor where there was warmth and the hope of finding life. The two of them would ride the rover vehicle with Jamie and Connors, Monique would remain here at the base. Jamie wondered about having Joanna and Ilona together in the rover. Close quarters. They were friendly enough now, but what kind of problems might arise with both of them cooped up for ten days in the rover?
Jamie had spoken to Ilona about her bitterness toward the Russians. She had responded with a raised eyebrow and a haughty little smile.
'I’m serious, Ilona,' he had said. 'You’ve got to stop needling Mikhail. And Alex, too. It’s got to stop.'
'Is that an order, Captain?' Her eyes smoldered at Jamie.
'I wish I could make it an order,' he replied. 'I wish I had the power to change your behavior.'
'You don’t. No one does.' Ilona took a small breath, almost a sigh. 'Not even I have that power.'
And then there was Tony. Something about the English physician worried Jamie. As the weeks had gone by Tony seemed to become — what? How to describe it? Sullen. Withdrawn. Maybe I’m just imagining it, Jamie thought. Tony looked the same: dapper, handsome, elegant even in project-issued coveralls. But he’s not acting quite the same as when we first landed. He’s quieter, he doesn’t talk as much, and when he does the old zing has gone out of him. Something’s wrong. Tony’s become distant. Cold. Almost hostile.
Has Ilona been riding him again about his not going outside? Then he shook his head. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m just imagining it. I’m so busy preparing everything for this traverse I just haven’t had much time to spend with Tony. Or maybe he doesn’t feel well.
'Do you need help?'
Jamie looked up to see Vosnesensky standing before him, a relaxed smile on his face. Mikhail shaved every morning, yet his dark beard was never completely erased.
'Thanks. I think I can manage.'
Jamie had put on the tubed thermal undergarment when he had dressed in his own cubicle. Now he was
