The Last Dance

by Martin L Shoemaker

  “For now,” Carver said. “I wish Van der Ven was up to making a weather forecast. Or even Deece.” Captain Aames had been unable to contact Deece or anyone on the Bradbury, so we had lost our eye in the sky.

  “Nothing on the horizon, though, right? We should have time to pack and get crawling?”

  Carver paused before he answered, “Nothing on my detectors. We’re good for now.” With that he pushed the panels aside, watching them slowly fall to the ground, where they blew up lazy clouds of dust that blocked his vision. Dust is different on every world. On Earth, it rises quickly, gets caught up in the thick atmosphere, and then slowly settles and blows away. On Luna, it sprays in fine jets, with no atmosphere to make it swirl into clouds, and then falls in smooth arcs like a volley of very tiny rocks (which is exactly what it is). But on Mars, the thinner atmosphere let it fly farther before air resistance took over; and then the lighter gravity let it hang in the air for far longer. With the winds died down for the moment, there was little to disperse the dust. And so Carver kicked up a great fog of dust all around him, and he had to wait over a minute before he could see his surroundings again. Then he had to brush his visor clean before he could walk the twenty meters to the crawler garage.

  I watched through the helmet cam as Carver approached the garage. He walked in near-total silence in the still Martian air, the only sounds his own breathing and the faint buzz and clicks of his suit. He reached the west wall and opened the big garage doors, a pair of polymer panels that swung out from the center on big wire wheels. The southern door stuck halfway open: the south wall had partially collapsed, and the doorframe had warped from the stress. Carver leaned into the door and pushed. “Careful, Lieutenant, watch your footing,” I called. Carver just nodded, braced his feet, and pushed harder, and the door swung farther open. It was wide enough for the crawler to emerge, but it would be a bitch to close again.

  Inside the crawler waited, the south wall leaning against it. The rear end faced the door, showing the winch and the main airlock. I called out, “Do you need help getting it free, Lieutenant?”

  Carver peered in between the panel and the vehicle. “Negative, Ensign. This’ll be light work.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on you, just in case.”

  The comm clicked, and Captain Aames cut in. “I’ll keep watch, Smith. Get those travel cases out and ready to haul up. The radar looks clear for now, but don’t waste any time. There could be another front over the horizon. Without the Bradbury’s meteorology reports, we can’t be sure when the next sandstorm will be.”

  “Yes, sir.” I went back and started moving the cases to the shaft. They were easy to lift in the Martian gravity, but still massive to move around, so I worked up quite a sweat hauling them. By the time the last case was in the shaft, a length of S3 cable hung down from above. Looking up, I saw the crawler’s winch hanging over the opening.

  I pulled down more of the S3 cable. There was a cargo clip woven into its end. I threaded the clip around the first case and through loops shaped into its sides, and then I hooked the clip back onto the cable. Then I tugged twice on the line running upward. “First case is ready, Lieutenant.”

  “Aye, Ensign,” Carver called down, and the cable pulled taut, lifting the case up the shaft. When it reached the top, Carver swung the winch around, lowered the case onto the crawler roof, and unhitched the case. Then he turned the winch back and lowered the cable again, and I started on the second case while he secured the first.

  In this way, we loaded up all of the cases. By the time Carver was securing the fifth, Gale walked into the shaft, supporting Van der Ven beside him. He held out a survival harness, a web of S3 cables with holes for arms and legs. “Smith, lend a hand here.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant.” Van had his left arm across Gale’s shoulders, hand wrapped into the fabric of Gale’s left sleeve. I bent down so he could brace his right arm on my shoulder, and then he lifted his right leg. I took the safety harness and threaded his leg in, up to the knee. Then I whispered to myself, “Don’t be squeamish,” and I pulled the harness around the stump of his left leg, tugging the harness up to his crotch. Van put his foot back down and let go of my shoulder, and the three of us managed to get his arms into the harness as well. We adjusted it snug around him and hooked the cargo clip in the back, and Carver activated the winch to pull Van up the shaft.

  While Van was going up, Pagnotto walked into the shaft and over to the ladder. Gale called out, “Stop, Ensign. You’re going up on the harness.”

  Pagnotto turned back. “I am much better, Tenente. I can climb.” I agreed, Elvio looked very steady after his rest.

  But Gale had his own ideas. “I’m sure you can, but we’re all using the harness. The power use is minimal, and it’s the safest approach.”

  There was no arguing—Gale was in charge; but Pagnotto made a point of donning the harness without help. After him, I rode the harness up, and then Gale. We each took our turn in the crawler’s one-person airlock.

  While we were waiting, Carver got on the comm to Captain Aames. “Confirmed, Captain, the sensor tower is inoperative. It would take a day to repair, even with replacement parts.”

  “You’re not waiting a day, Lieutenant,” Nick replied.

  “Understood, sir. That means we’ll have no radar, no meteorology, and visual limited to what the pilot can see from the turret. And no comms, sir, unless we stop periodically to step out and report.”

  “Negative, Carver. We don’t know how soon another storm may come. Do not stop unless there’s bad news to report. Good news can wait.”

  “Yes, sir.” Then it was my turn in the lock, and I lost the comm signal. Carver came in right after me, taking up the rear. Once we were all inside, Gale pulled himself up into the pilot turret—an easy task in Martian gravity—and sat in the pilot chair. I could just see his feet sticking down into the main cabin and resting on a padded footrest that jutted out underneath the chair.

  So we began our trip across Coprates quadrangle. We didn’t go at our top speed, since Gale had to scan the Martian surface for hazards (especially with the sensor tower out), but we made good time. Since I had nothing better to do for four hours, I took off my helmet and lay back on my bunk. The wire wheels were great shock absorbers, so the crawler ride was smooth. Soon the steady hum of the motor hypnotized me, and I grabbed another chance to sleep.

  I woke feeling more rested. The hum still filled the cabin, but it was dark, the only light being the faint glow of instruments and the weak Martian sunlight leaking down around Gale’s legs as he drove.

  I checked my suit comp: I had slept a little over two hours. I could use more, but it was a good start, and I was too keyed up to go back to sleep. So I sat up and looked around the darkened crawler.

  As soon as I did, I knew there was trouble: only one other bunk was occupied. Elvio slept soundly right across from me, but he was the only one there. The crawler wasn’t big enough to hide anybody, but Van and Carver were nowhere to be seen.

  I didn’t want to wake Elvio; so I got up, walked carefully forward so as not to lose my balance, and stood underneath Gale, peering around the footrest and his boots. “Lieutenant,” I whispered loudly.

  Gale sighed, and then spoke in a low voice, without taking his eyes off the Martian landscape. “Yes, Ensign?”

  “Lieutenant, what the hell’s going on? Where are Van der Ven and Carver?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ensign.” Still he didn’t look down at me.

  “Bullshit!” I said too loudly, and Elvio shifted in his sleep. I lowered my voice again. “Gale, you have complete system displays up there. No one left this crawler without you knowing it. Stop playing games, and tell me what happened.”

  Gale sighed again, and this time he did glance down at me between his legs. “All right, Ensign, I’ve had enough of your disrespect. But if it will quiet you down and keep you focused on survival . . . Yes, a little more than an hour after we left, Van der Ven s
lipped into the airlock and abandoned the crawler.”

  “What?” Again Elvio moved, and I tried to calm down. “Why the hell would he do that?”

  Finally Gale looked straight at me, a sneer on his face. “I assume because unlike you, Smith, he understands that he is a liability. We cannot save him, and we’ll doom ourselves trying. And since he is a better spacer than you, he chose to make the decision you and Aames and the rest were too soft to make: to cut himself loose.”

  “Impossible! Van’s not a quitter.”

  “I only wish he had had the foresight to leave his oxygen behind. We could use it more than him.”

  I was stunned. Gone was Gale the manipulator, Gale the letch: the face I saw was cold, calculating, only interested in himself. Of course stress brings out the hidden side of people, but this change, I never would’ve guessed. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think of a response. Finally I managed to ask, “And Carver?”

  Gale shook his head and looked back to the horizon. “He woke a little later, and he asked many of the same questions. When I gave him the same answers, he demanded that I turn the crawler around.”

  “Hell, yes! What the fuck are you waiting for?”

  “As I told him, Ensign, I do not take orders from my junior officers. Nor from you. Van der Ven made the right decision, and who am I to undo his sacrifice?”

  I wanted to scream, but I held back. “And so Carver went after him?”

  Gale nodded. “And good riddance. We cannot know when a storm may come, so we cannot waste time on his heroics. The lad lacks the temperament to be a good officer. We shall face some very difficult choices before this is through, and Carver cannot make the hard decisions. Better that we’re rid of him now. Besides, that’s more consumables for the rest of us.”

  “More consumables?” I shouted despite myself, and Pagnotto stirred. I made one more try to calm down. “Gale, turn this crawler around. Now.”

  Gale didn’t look down. “Smith, I have had quite enough of your insolence. This discussion is closed.”

  That was the end of my self-control. I reached up, grabbed his boots, and yanked downward. Gale hadn’t strapped into the chair, so he dropped to the floor, hitting both his tailbone and the back of his head on the footrest. The bodysuit protected his backside, but his head hit hard. Still, the padding protected him from any serious damage, so he was only staggering when my punch landed on his jaw. I was used to fighting in Earth’s gravity, so I hadn’t expected my punch to send him clear across the crawler and into a wall. The impact there added to his punishment, and he slid to the floor, semiconscious.

  That finally woke Pagnotto. He looked down at Gale and then up at me. “Ensign?”

  “Don’t worry, Elvio.” I bent down and checked Gale’s diagnostics. I had done no permanent damage—not that I cared much right at that moment. “The lieutenant just slipped.”

  Elvio looked down and nodded. “In my time, I have seen many such slips. I am sure he shall be more careful in the future.”

  “Maybe, but just in case . . .” I lifted Gale up and stretched him out on a bunk. “He really should rest, for his own good. Can you make sure he stays there? I have to turn the crawler around.”

  “Si.” Elvio nodded. “But why do we go back?”

  So I told him the story. I didn’t mention the fight, but Elvio was smart enough to fill in the missing details. When I was done, he waved me away. “Go, Ensign. Drive. No one will interfere, I promise.”

  So I climbed up into the pilot turret and wheeled the crawler around in a wide turn, coming back to our tracks. They were still visible, so we didn’t have storm winds yet. Looking at the horizon, though, I couldn’t be sure what was coming. How close were those dust clouds? Had my temper doomed us all? A crawler was a safe place to ride out a dust storm, but did we have enough air?

  As I drove, I tried to call the captain. No luck—the comms were dead, just as Carver had said. I tried calling him and Van as well, but nothing. I had made my move, and now I would have to see it through. There was no one else to turn to.

  Gale said Van left the crawler a little over an hour out, and we had traveled nearly two and a half hours. So I had at least an hour to drive. Maybe less, since I could drive faster, knowing the terrain was safe. But not too fast: I didn’t want to miss any signs of Van and Carver. I wondered if maybe I should go back down and sedate Gale to keep him out of trouble. But no, Elvio would handle things down below. He got along with Gale better than I did since they had both come up through EU training and knew a lot of the same spacers, but I had seen the disgust in his face when I told him about Gale abandoning Van der Ven.

  I pulled up our route map, and I estimated where Van might’ve gotten out. There was no sign that the crawler had stopped or even slowed near the hour mark; but at about one-eighteen, the track stopped for about as long as an airlock cycle. Carver must’ve persuaded Gale to stop long enough to let him out. I knew Van had left prior to that, so I sped ahead to that point.

  As I drew close to the spot, I looked out, blinked my eyes, and looked again. “Anson Carver, if you were a woman, I could kiss you.” I slowed the crawler nearly to a halt. Off to the side, just south of our tracks, stood a crude arch of flat Martian stones: two slabs standing and a third stacked on top of them. It was a clear message: I was here.

  Once I slowed down, I could see Carver’s tracks. He had made a point to walk beside the crawler tracks, so we could see where he went. He had even dragged something to make a clearer track—which was good, because the winds were picking up. Already the crawler tracks were blurred.

  What should I do? If I went too fast, I could miss something important. If I went too slow, the tracks could be wiped out when the dust arrived. I settled on fast, but not top speed.

  And sure enough, there came a point where I had lost the tracks. Damn it. I brought the crawler to a halt.

  “Any problem, Ensign?” Elvio called up.

  “No.” I thought long before I continued, “We just have to backtrack a bit.” I put the crawler in reverse, low gear, and let the computer’s dead reckoning keep us on track as I scanned for tracks.

  There! Of course I had lost the track: it suddenly turned north, crossed the crawler tracks (getting completely obscured in the process), and continued on the other side. Only there it ran more or less straight north, following a broad, indistinct track. That had to be Van, crawling. The two tracks led quickly into some foothills, and from there into some low mountains.

  I stopped the crawler again. The slopes were terrain the crawler could handle, but not well. I was torn: I wanted to rescue Van and Carver, but I didn’t have the right to endanger Elvio. Nor even that rat bastard, Gale, even as mad as I was.

  I turned off the motor, climbed down from the turret, and grabbed my helmet. “Elvio, I’m headed into the hills to help Carver with Van. Can you handle things here?” I glanced at Gale.

  “Si.” Elvio nodded. “We have an understanding, I think. Tenente Gale shall not give me trouble. We shall be here when you return.”

  “Thank you.” I put on my helmet. “But don’t wait too long. If we’re not back in an hour, we’ve run into trouble that’s too big for us. Don’t come try to help, just get yourself and Gale to pad B.” Elvio nodded again, and I turned to Gale, who glared up at me. “But one hour, no sooner, Lieutenant. If you leave one minute before that, I swear I will march all the way across Mars and give you a beating that will make that punch feel like a kiss.” I shut my visor before Gale could answer, turned on my environment unit, and climbed into the airlock.

  Once on the surface, I tried my comm. I kept it on the team circuit, and I checked to be sure Captain Aames wasn’t listening in. I wanted this just between us. “Carver. Van. Answer me, damn it.”

  I listened. At first there was only the static of the low frequency ground wave. Then finally Carver answered, sounding winded. “A little busy here, Smith.”

  “Carver! I am so glad to hear you. Did you find Van?” />
  Van der Ven’s deep voice answered: “Ja, I am here.” He sounded tired, but alert.

  “Van, what the hell did you think you were doing with this little hike?”

  There was a long pause before finally he answered, “Stretching your resources.”

  “What?”

  “My fever is worse. I waste your time, waste your water. Better I should die, so you may live. So I crawl away so you cannot find me.”

  “You heard Gale.”

  “Ja. It was like a dream, but I hear him. He makes sense.”

  “No, he doesn’t!” I shouted. “Gale’s an idiot, he’s only thinking about himself. He can’t see the big picture.”

  “Ja, that is what Carver tells me. He says the captain has a plan, and it needs all of us. Especially me, he says. Without the Bradbury, a meteorologist is vital, he says.”

  Good job, Carver. “He’s right, Van. We’ll never make it without you.”

  “I hope you are wrong.” Van sounded depressed. Isn’t that normal for amputees? But this was worse. “You may have to get by without me. Without both of us, since Carver refuses to leave me.”

  “What?”

  “The damned leg. It slows me down, and there is not time. From the mountainside, I see signs. Sandstorm is coming. It will bury us. I tell Carver leave me, but he says no.”

  “Damn right,” Carver answered. “We need you, and we’re not giving you up. We just have to move a little faster.”

  “Lieutenant,” I asked, “could you go faster with some help?”

  Carver’s voice brightened. “Sure. We could redistribute the load, take turns helping Van. But I’m not ordering you to put yourself at risk too.”

  “Try to stop me, Carver.” I headed north at a jog. I was confident that Carver’s and Van’s trails would show me where it was safe to travel, so there was little need for caution. And on Mars a jog was easy, even in a suit. Lunar Survival School taught us how to bend into the jog, keep our center of mass low, and push off to cover territory fast without arcing up on every step. It’s a fast way to cover ground on Luna, and almost as good on Mars. But I made it only a couple hundred meters before pain in my ribs made me slow down. The osteo-nanos could heal the fractures pretty quickly, but not if I forgot myself and undid all that healing faster than they could work.