He ignored the reply and pressed forward full speed into the storm. The ground was barely visible, and it took his entire concentration to miss the rocks that appeared suddenly before him. Tatiana was watching the navigational screen and gave instructions whenever he veered off course. After a while he slowed down a bit, his nerves on edge. The wind was blowing hard, with gusts as high as four hundred kilometers per hour, which raised the sand and made it even more difficult for him to see.
The rover bounced over a small crevice, and a shrill, pained yelp sounded inside their helmets. Komarov brought the rover to a stop. “What happened?” he inquired, attempting to look back at Satomura.
The impact had driven a collection bag sharply into Satomura’s lower back. He had not been allowed to carry the many bags of samples he had adamantly declared were indispensable to his research. His collection had been reduced to the three bags he had secured to his suit and the one he had slipped surreptitiously through its neck, which was now lodged painfully against his lower lumbar.
“Something struck me in the back. You could be more careful.” “How are we doing on time?” Komarov demanded of Tatiana.
“We’re ten minutes ahead of schedule.”
Komarov surveyed his surroundings, but he was immediately disappointed, for all he could see was swirling dust. The wall of a mountain or the steep drop of a precipice could be less than a meter away, and he would not see it. He decided to proceed at a slower pace. The navigational screen showed that they had traveled thirty kilometers. Clouds of dust blew past him, and, occasionally, as the storm waned, he could make out a boulder in the distance.
“Get the hell out of there!” Carter ordered sharply. “You’ve got tornadoes forming east of you.”
Komarov did not wait to ask questions. He slammed his foot on the accelerator. Tatiana was thrust back into her chair, and Satomura would have flown off the back had he not been tied to the chassis. He yelped in pain.
“Hold on,” Komarov shouted belatedly. “How far east?”
“Six hundred meters.” They looked to the east, but the dust was too thick for them to see the tornadoes.
“We’re never going to make it.” Tatiana’s voice was filled with despair.
“Shut up,” Komarov demanded. “Drop the safety factor to one. I want the fastest route to the lander.”
Tatiana punched in the necessary commands. The neon path snapped almost to a straight line, and Komarov turned sharply to follow the new course. The rover was pushing its maximum speed of thirty-nine kilometers per hour. Komarov could feel sweat building on his brow.
“Watch out!” Tatiana shouted.
It was a large boulder, nearly the size of the rover, and it was less than two meters in front of them. Komarov realized that he could not stop in time so he turned the wheel sharply. The front end of the rover swerved past, but the back end lost traction and slammed hard into the rock. Komarov regained control of the rover and continued onward at the same speed, not willing to slow down with the tornadoes so near.
“That was close,” he said.
His comment was followed by an unexpected silence. Fearful, he slowed the vehicle and turned to look at Tatiana. To his relief she was still there. But she was not moving, and her head was cocked slightly back, and for a moment he feared she was dead. He was about to stop the rover when he heard her voice.
“Takashi,” she whispered.
They both waited, but there was no reply.
“Takashi,” she repeated with growing panic, this time much louder.
“Yes?” It was Takashi, and he sounded irritated.
“You frightened me,” she said.
“I find that hard to believe. Dmitri is the one driving.”
“You better keep moving,” Carter warned.
“Where are they now?” Komarov asked, increasing his speed.
“Four hundred meters and heading straight for you,” Carter replied. “If you can maintain your present speed, they may just miss you. Whatever you do, don’t stop.”
“Keep a close lookout,” Komarov said tensely.
“I can’t see a fucking thing,” Tatiana replied.
Komarov drove as quickly as he could. Carter announced that one of the tornadoes had dissipated, but that the other two were still on a direct collision course. It was Satomura who saw them first. The winds had died down somewhat, and for the first time since they emerged from their lander the sky was almost visible. The relative calm was more frightening than the storm itself. At the edge of the storm, visibility now nearly half a kilometer, a swirling tower danced into view. Its path was erratic, but by its increasing size, he knew it was getting closer. Nearly a minute passed before he said anything.
“It is in view,” he finally uttered.
Tatiana, who was no longer needed for guidance, turned in her seat to see the tornado. The sight left her speechless.
“How far is it?” Komarov asked.
“Three hundred meters, maybe less,” Satomura replied. “The rover won’t go any faster.”
Tatiana, pointing in the direction of the tornado, finally managed to speak after several false starts.
“I see the other one,” she gasped.
Satomura saw it, too. It was faint, behind the first, but rapidly approaching. The tornadoes grew larger with each passing second. The first tornado was now only two hundred meters away and dominated the sky. “Faster,” Tatiana pleaded. It towered over their heads, and had become so large it blocked the other tornado from view. It twisted and twirled and roared, and they could barely hear Carter shouting at them to keep moving. Frozen in place, the tarp at his shoulders, Satomura stared with mouth agape. The tornado closed to fifty meters.
“Oh no,” Tatiana said with disbelief.
The second tornado emerged from behind the first and was heading for a point directly in front of them.
“Stop!” she shrieked. She closed her eyes and pressed her head between her knees.
Komarov obeyed the command and turned to see what had provoked Tatiana’s outburst. He stopped breathing. His throat went dry. The tips of the tornadoes were twisting madly across the planet’s surface, sucking up sand and rock. He witnessed a boulder half the size of the rover disappear and several others being ejected like cannon shot. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around Tatiana in an attempt to protect her.
The tornado at the rear of the rover turned sharply and headed southward. Satomura felt his bowels loosen as it disappeared into the storm. But the second tornado held its course. At its closest point Komarov closed his eyes and wondered if this was how he was going to die. The tornado passed within fifteen westward. Carter was asking for their status. Several minutes passed before Komarov replied.
“Any more of those?” he asked apprehensively.
“Nothing on the maps.”
“I certainly hope not.” He stood up to survey the rover and his surroundings while the winds were weak. Tatiana still had her head in her knees. He placed a comforting hand on her back, but she did not react. He noticed that the low-gain antenna was still attached. “It’ll be all right,” he said. “Takashi, any damage?”
“None that I can see.”
“You holding up all right?” he asked. She did not reply. It sounded as if she were having trouble breathing. “Why don’t you switch positions with Takashi.”
Her body stiffened, and for a moment he was fearful of what she might do. She lifted her head. Her face was drained of color, her eyes red and filled with tears, her lips trembling.
“Yes,” she said. “I could use the rest.”
The winds were picking up, and Komarov encouraged them to move quickly. But they had to untie the rope that bound Satomura to the rover, and retie it for Tatiana. By the time Satomura finally managed to sit down next to Komarov, the storm was in full fury.
“Only thirty more kilometers,” Komarov informed his new copilot.
Satomura was staring wide-eyed into the storm, wondering how Tatiana had man
aged to see anything beyond the tips of her fingers.
Satomura’s directions were quick and accurate, and were the only words spoken as they made their way across the mesa. Small crevices posed the greatest danger—they were more difficult to make out—and occasionally the rover would strike one and sink unexpectedly with a crash that jarred their spines.
They were approximately four kilometers from the lander when the rover broke down. The diagnostic program was unable to identify the cause. They clambered off to see if they could locate the problem, but did so without much hope. The gears were caked in sand. In many places the sand was so densely packed that they were able to scrape only a small bit away. After fifteen minutes, Komarov declared the effort futile.
“We’ll have to go it on foot,” he said. The three were huddled in a tight circle, their backs braced against the wind. “It should take us about an hour. Tatiana, I want you in the middle. Any questions?”
They shook their heads. To make for the lander was their only option. Komarov examined them through their darkened helmets. Tatiana’s hair was damp and matted against her forehead. Her eyes met his. They were tired, but determined. He could see though that she still blamed him for their predicament. Satomura appeared not to care, and Komarov wondered if he was still upset about his rocks. It took several minutes to secure the rope between them.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes, of course,” Satomura replied.
A silver arrow on Komarov’s heads-up display indicated the direction he was to take, and a number under the arrow gave the distance in meters. It was not as informative as the navigational console on the rover, but it was sufficient. He kept his eyes on the ground just before his feet. He moved quickly. The wind, with the exception of the more forceful gusts, was not strong enough to hinder his movement. The danger lay mostly in his inability to make out his surroundings. Occasionally, the rope tied around his waist would pull him back, and he would turn to investigate and would find Tatiana off to one side attempting to regain her balance. She was growing tired. Komarov was the only one who spoke as they walked, and he did so only to warn them of a hazard he had spotted. He was glad they were not heading directly into the wind and wondered how far they would have made it without the tarps. After two and a half kilometers Tatiana requested that they stop to rest, but Komarov convinced her to go farther. He was concerned about the time they had lost.
They walked for another kilometer before he pointed out a boulder that they could sit behind. They huddled close together and listened to the sound of their breathing as they considered the remaining distance. Komarov kept a close eye on the time; he was going to allow five minutes, no more. He did not like being on the surface during the storm. He wondered if everyone would make it to the lander alive. Now that they only had four hundred meters left, he felt reasonably certain that they would. He inspected his suit for damage. There was none that he could see. Then he got up and inspected Tatiana’s and Satomura’s suits. They sat exhausted as he scanned their visors for damage. The two suits appeared to be in good condition. He told them to keep their tarps tightly wrapped, then sat back down and watched the time. The sooner they were inside the lander, the better. He wondered how long they would have to wait for the winds to die down so that they could launch. He almost wished that Carter had not made the attempt. At five minutes precisely, he stood back up.
They had traveled less than fifty meters when Komarov felt a sharp tug against the rope that was tied around his waist. The tug pulled him back several steps. He turned around to investigate what had happened, and saw only Satomura. He looked down at his feet and found Tatiana lying on the surface, her limbs flung outward.
“Help me,” Komarov said.
They bent down and picked her up. She offered some assistance but not enough for them to step back and let her stand on her own. Komarov pressed up against her visor. Her eyes were glassy. Her head rolled forward and snapped back.
“I lost my footing,” she said.
“We’ll have to hold up until she recovers.”
They guided her to a boulder and sat her down in the shelter behind it. Komarov cursed his luck. He realized he was pushing them too hard. They were only a few hundred meters away. He could ease the pace. He studied her closely as he talked to her. She seemed more angry with herself than anything else, and kept insisting that she was fine. Ten minutes passed before Komarov decided that they could continue. He shortened the rope between them.
“Hold on to me if you have to,” Komarov said.
They had regained much of their strength and were eager to continue. Visibility had improved considerably. They could see nearly forty meters, and the sky, still dark, had lightened. This filled them with hope. They made their way across the broken surface at a hurried pace, pressed by the knowledge that the lull in the storm was only temporary. With each step they felt their chances of reaching the lander improved. They engaged in light bantering as they walked. At ninety meters from the lander, they came to an abrupt halt. At their feet there was a crevice that sank into the planet’s surface and stretched as far as they could see in either direction. They could barely make out the rocky surface at the far end. The winds were picking up strength.
“What is this?” Komarov demanded.
“A runoff channel,” said Satomura, stepping perilously close to the edge to look down into its interior. It was only twenty meters deep, but the descent appeared too dangerous to attempt. He scanned the near wall.
“What are we to do?” Tatiana asked. There was a hint of panic in her voice, and this concerned Komarov because he already had enough to worry about.
“The rover was to go around,” Carter broke in.
“And where was the rover to go around?” Komarov asked. “About two and a half klicks up the north side.”
“That would take too long,” Komarov said, and stepped closer to the edge. “We’ll have to cross here.”
“Another location farther—” Satomura was interrupted by a powerful gust. The two men retreated several steps, their tarps flapping hard against the wind.
“Twenty meters north,” Satomura said, pointing. “It did not look as steep.”
“Are you sure?” Komarov asked. He stared into the storm, but saw only waves of red sand. A gust struck him from the rear and shoved him with unexpected force toward the gully. He managed to regain his footing within inches of the edge. He took several steps back and motioned the others to do the same.
“Twenty meters.” Without waiting for Komarov’s instruction, Satomura headed in the direction he had pointed. He leapt over a rock and disappeared into the storm. As the rope grew taut, Tatiana realized that she would have to follow. Surprised by Satomura’s impulsive act, she looked back at Komarov for guidance. He motioned for her to go.
They found Satomura on all fours looking over the edge of the gully.
“The channel may actually increase the velocity of the wind,” he said, glancing up at them.
Komarov peered over the edge and saw that the grade was indeed less steep, but he could only make out the first few meters. The rest was obscured by dust. “I’ll go first.” He dropped to his hands and knees and motioned Tatiana to do the same. He gripped the edge and lowered himself into the gully. The winds tugged at him, making the descent more difficult than it would have otherwise been. Twice he lost his grip and almost fell. His hands grew tired as he climbed down, and he wondered if Tatiana would be able to make it. When he reached the bottom he called for Tatiana to descend. The wind was much stronger, and he found that it helped to hold on to the rock wall to maintain his balance. He instructed Satomura to keep the rope taut. Several minutes later Tatiana was standing next to him. She appeared worn and tired, but eager. He assisted her to a low, flat boulder, where she lowered herself with a grateful sigh.
“We’re almost there,” he reassured her. She nodded to indicate she understood, but he had missed the gesture, for his flashlight was already pointing upwar
d at the murky ceiling formed by the storm. “Any time you’re ready, Takashi.”
Moments later a pair of disembodied boots poked through the ceiling. Satomura proceeded down the gully wall at a quick, almost reckless pace. Breathing hard, he spotted the rock upon which Tatiana was sitting and made directly for it. He sat down next to her. The gully was obscured by fallout from the storm above.
Komarov tightened his grip on his tarp and stepped carefully to the far wall. His pace slackened with disbelief. The wall was nearly vertical, and as far as he could determine, it provided little in footholds or handholds. It would be impossible to scale without the proper climbing gear. He touched the wall as if to make certain it was real. It was smooth and flat, like a rock burnished by the sea. He stepped back from the wall and searched for a place to ascend. Certainly, he thought, there must be a way up. I will send Takashi north and myself south and leave Tatiana here. One of us will find a way. He turned to announce his plan to the others, but hesitated, surprised at how faint they appeared. The dust made it difficult to see anything beyond a meter.
“We will not be able to ascend here,” he said.
“Why not?” Tatiana demanded.
“The wall is too steep. There should be a place nearby. Al, anything on the maps?”
“Sorry, but the detail is not that good.” They could hear him tapping at the keyboard. “Hold on. There is a spot approximately four hundred meters north of you, but . . .”
“Yes?”
“To get there you’ll have to descend into some rather deep terrain.”
“How deep?”
“Forty-plus meters.”
“Impossible,” Komarov replied impatiently. “Anything else?” Several long seconds passed before Carter responded. “I think you’re boxed in.”
“What do you mean, boxed in?”
“It sinks rather deep on the south side also. You’ve got about sixty meters in either direction. After that it’s more or less impassable.”
“Takashi, I want you to go north. If you find a way up, announce your position and remain there. We’ll come to you. I’ll go south and do the same. Tanya, you stay here.”
A Step Beyond Page 31