Mars Crossing

by Geoffrey A. Landis

  In all directions, as far as it was possible to see, there was only ice. Estrela had to confront the secret that she had never shared with any of the crew: The immensity of Mars terrified her.

  They moved in silence. Estrela felt as if she were alone on the face of an uncaring planet. She seemed to be walking in a narrow cavern, a knife-thin slot between the blue-white ice below and the dirty yellow sky above. She felt that she was small, an insignificant speck crawling across the wrinkled ice.

  But, to her surprise, she realized on the second day that it no longer terrified her. The ice was just ice, the sky just sky. Neither ice nor sky cared who she was or what she had done. She didn’t have to explain herself to them, didn’t have to pretend to be anybody. She could forget the others, forget even João, in the presence of uncaring immensity. It was as if she weren’t even there at all.

  Estrela walked as if hypnotized, half-numbed from cold, numbed from lack of sleep, ignoring the others, alone inside her suit.

  Alone between the ice and the sky, Estrela Conselheiro felt free to be nobody at all.

  16

  THE BURIED SPACESHIP

  It took them eight days to reach the pole.

  They came over the ice ridge, and Jesus do Sul was visible. Or the top half of the spacecraft was visible.

  Jesus do Sul had sunk into the ice.

  Estrela stopped abruptly, as if suddenly waking from a long trance. “Jesus do Sul,” she said softly, as if it were some puzzling words she were trying to understand, and then, more firmly, “Jesus do Sul.” Then suddenly she screamed and ran toward the ship. “João! João!”

  Around the spacecraft, the snow was clean and undisturbed. Not even a ripple marked the locations where the two Brazilian explorers had fallen.

  Ryan started to go to her, and Tana held him back. She switched over to the private channel. “Leave her be,” she said. “I think she needs to be alone for a while. Let’s go check out the spacecraft.”

  They were desperately in need of the supplies. They had eaten the last of their ration bricks two days ago and were living on nothing but one liter of recycled water per day. It wasn’t enough, and they were all suffering from the effects of dehydration.

  There was a habitat module at the base of the Jesus do Sul. Ryan knew where it had to be—he had watched the tapes of the Brazilian exploration hundreds of times and had memorized all the details of the base—but nothing was visible. It was buried beneath the snow.

  Estrela was looking around frantically. “João!”

  Tana ignored her own advice and went toward Estrela. “Estrela?” she said. “Are you all right?”

  Ryan turned to the rocket. They had to get into the habitat, and they didn’t have any extra time.

  The Brazilians had taken a much more streamlined approach to the design, and the part of the rocket that protruded from the snow looked like the spire of an onion-domed cathedral, with two smaller domes, the tops of the two first-stage boosters, to either side.

  The dome at the top of the spire of Jesus do Sul contained the Earth Return Module, the uppermost stage of the Brazilian rocket. Ryan climbed the ladder to reach it. The hatch was over his head at an awkward angle. He pulled at the latch.

  It didn’t move.

  It’s locked, Ryan thought, and then immediately, no, that’s ridiculous. Nobody would put a lock on a spaceship hatch. It’s just stuck. He put his full strength against the latch and pulled. Nothing.

  He paused to think. Cold. Cold, and dry, sitting in the cold and dry for eight years. The hatch had sealed solid against the rim. He went down the ladder back to the snow where he had left his skis, picked up one of the makeshift metal skis, and returned to the hatch. Using the end of the ski as a hammer, he methodically pounded, working around the edge of the sealed hatch. The metal of the ski twisted; he ignored it and kept working, moving clockwise around the seal once, twice.

  He used the ski as a lever to pry against the hatch handle and tried it again. No success. He put both hands on the lever and pulled with his full strength against it, and felt something, a slight, almost infinitesimal give. He jerked it again, and then began to rhythmically pull with a succession of quick jerks. With an abrupt sucking, the bottom of the hatch pulled open, and then the top. He nearly fell backward as it opened.

  The interior had two couches and a control panel. It was completely dark.

  If even the emergency batteries were dead, they were in trouble. But no, when he switched over to emergency power, a feeble cockpit light came on, enough for him to see the controls.

  Good enough. He looked around. The advice from the ground had mentioned that there was an EVA maneuvering gun, a small rocket engine mounted on a pistol-grip that could be used if ever there had been a reason to go outside the spacecraft. The ground crew had listed it as a possible item to discard to decrease the launch mass, but Ryan had a different use for it now.

  Buried below the snow there was a habitat module, stocked with food and water and an electrical generator, all the necessities for the three hundred and fifty days the Brazilians had planned to stay on the surface.

  Ryan intended to melt his way down to it.

  17

  AT THE POLE

  He’s buried, Estrela,” Tana said. She tried to be as gentle as she could. “He’s at peace.”

  Estrela’s only reply was an inarticulate moan. She had been on her knees on the ice, at the spot where João had lain, for an hour.

  The ice was empty. Over the eight years since João had fallen, his body had slowly sunk into the ice, and new snow had fallen on top, until now only the barest shadow under the ice marked where he had died.

  Estrela had been crying continuously. Tana had never before seen her cry; she’d always seen Estrela as being cold and unemotional, sensuous, yes, in her negligent way, but not affected by anything. Tana tried to remember what it felt like to love a man like that. Had she ever loved Derrick so much? She couldn’t remember.

  Ryan had melted a tunnel down through the ice to the habitat. Or sublimed a tunnel, rather; at this pressure ice vaporized rather than melted. He was beginning to get the solar arrays cleared and the habitat systems powered up. Good old Ryan, she thought; if there’s any possible technical solution to a problem, Ryan will find it.

  The heat of Estrela’s suit had vaporized down six inches of ice around her. The heaters on the suit were good, but at sixty degrees below zero, being pressed right against the snow was pushing them beyond their limits. Why, she must be freezing, Tana thought.

  She reached out for Estrela’s arm and pulled her up. “Come on. Aren’t you cold? We have to get you inside.”

  Estrela twisted her arm free and shoved Tana away. Wordlessly, she turned back to the little hollow she had melted into the ice and went back down to her knees.

  Ryan came up. “I’ve got the habitat powered up.” He looked down at Estrela. “Has she been here this whole time? Is she okay?”

  Tana shook her head. “I think she’s going hypothermic.”

  Between the two of them, they managed to pull her to her feet. She struggled fiercely for a moment, and then allowed them to guide her without resisting.

  After eight days sleeping inside the sausage, the tiny fiberglass habitat of Jesus do Sul seemed like a cathedral. Inside, Tana pulled Estrela out of her suit, and then released her own. “Yikes!” she said. “Sweet Christ, it’s cold in here.”

  “Sorry,” Ryan said. “The power system is underperforming. It should warm up in a bit. Coveralls in the storage locker over here.”

  Tana, starting to shiver, went to the locker. Ryan had already pulled on a coverall. The air in the little dome was frigid. Their breaths came out in white puffs, and the walls around them grew a coating of frost from the exhaled vapor in their breath.

  Estrela, stripped down to only her suit lining, had not moved. She was completely still, not even shivering. The tears on her face had frozen into tiny glistening icicles down her cheeks and chin. Tana re
ached out and touched her on the side of the neck. Her skin was icy to the touch. Tana swore briefly under her breath.

  “She’s hypothermic, all right,” she said. “She’s not shivering; that’s a bad sign. A real bad sign.”

  She looked around. “We’ve got to warm her up. Can you heat up some water?”

  “Water supply is still frozen.” Ryan shook his head. “It’ll be an hour before we get enough power to heat up anything.”

  “That’s too long,” said Tana. “Wrapping her in a blanket won’t do, she’s so cold that there’s no heat to conserve. Her skin is too cold.”

  Tana stripped Estrela down to bare skin. Estrela made no objection; she didn’t seem to even notice them. Then Tana peeled away her own clothes; first the coveralls and then her suit liner. The air of the habitat was frigid winter against her bare skin. She wrapped her arms around Estrela, hugging her as close to her as she could, trying to maximize skin contact. It was like hugging ice cubes.

  “Can you find a blanket?” Tana asked.

  Ryan went to their suits and detached the thermophotovoltaic isotope power supplies. He arranged these around Tana and Estrela. The waste heat from the radiators felt good. It helped. Not enough.

  “You, too,” Tana said.

  Ryan fetched a blanket, and then stripped. He hesitated for a moment at his underwear, and then turned his back and stripped them off. He quickly stepped behind Estrela and pulled her close, and then wrapped the blanket around the three of them.

  But Tana had seen.

  Christ almighty, how could he have a hard-on in a place like this? Tana thought. This is not an erotic situation. Just as quickly, she thought, I shouldn’t judge, it’s not as if he could help it. And at the same time, she thought, he got that from looking at Estrela, not me. I wish my body had an effect like that.

  And then: It must be difficult for him, I guess.

  “Come on, Estrela,” she said under her breath. “Warm up. Start to shiver. Come on, you idiot, you fool, you mad goose. Don’t die on us. Come on!”

  She was still muttering it when she fell asleep.

  18

  DEATH AT THE POLE

  After a full day powered up, the habitat was slightly warmer, but their breath still was visible in the air. Tana had spent the entire day inside, tending to Estrela. Ryan had spent it melting ice away from the rocket. Jesus do Sul now protruded vertically upward through the center of a deep shaft through the ice.

  “I checked the rocket the best I can,” he said. “It’s in pretty remarkable shape for something that’s been sitting on the surface for so long. If there’s something wrong with it, it’s beyond my ability to diagnose.”

  “Don’t tell me about the rocket,” Estrela said. She had mostly recovered from her episode of hypothermia, but she still looked pale. Spent. “I don’t care about the rocket. I want to know about João. What happened to João?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Does it really matter?”

  “It does matter!” she shouted. Her voice was hoarse, and it came out as a harsh whisper. “Tell me how João died!”

  Ryan looked away. “They were poisoned.”

  “What?” Estrela whispered hoarsely. “Tell me.”

  Ryan sighed. “It was a simple mistake. Their fuel manufacturing plant made methane out of hydrogen, and it released carbon monoxide. No big deal; carbon monoxide is a natural component of the Martian atmosphere anyway. Do you remember that I had an episode of anoxia? The same thing happened to them. The sensors on their breathing electrolyzers were poisoned with sulfur contamination. But they were making fuel on the spot, so there was an excess of carbon monoxide. When their oxygen sensors failed, what got through was carbon monoxide. It poisoned them.”

  “How do you know this?” Tana asked.

  “Whose fault was it?” Estrela asked.

  Ryan shrugged. “Once I knew what to look for, it wasn’t hard to see the evidence.”

  “But whose fault was it?” Estrela insisted.

  Ryan shrugged. “Nobody’s fault, really. It was an oversight.”

  “An accident? It was just an accident?” She sat clown and looked away. “That’s all?”

  “It was an accident. The same thing almost happened to us.” He looked up at her and saw that she was crying. “I’m sorry.”

  Tana patted her on the back and echoed what Ryan said. “I’m sorry.”

  19

  THE FINAL CHOICE

  It’s time,” Ryan said. “We have to choose.”

  Everyone was silent.

  Ryan held out his fist. The ends of three strips of paper protruded. “Pick a strip. One of the strips is shorter than the rest. The two long ones go home.”

  Estrela shook her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’ve made my decision already. It doesn’t matter who draws which slip of paper. I’m staying.”

  “What?” Ryan and Tana said, at almost exactly the same time.

  Estrela smiled, a wan smile. “I surprised you, didn’t I?”

  Ryan was gripped by a contradiction of emotions. His heart was telling him, let her stay here, let her stay, I’m going home. But his conscience told him that they couldn’t let her kill herself, not after all this; they were in here together. He said cautiously, “It’s a surprise, yes.” Then added, “But it wouldn’t be fair to have you make the sacrifice. We’ll all take the same chance.”

  Estrela shook her head. “It doesn’t matter whether you go back or not. I’m staying here.”

  “How would you survive?” Tana said.

  Estrela tossed her hair, and for a moment a spark of her stubborn vitality showed through. “I can survive. I’ll go back to the American base; plenty of food and water there, plenty of supplies for the expedition that did not stay. Even a greenhouse.”

  Ryan was startled. Yes, he thought, it might be possible. Maybe. “You can’t count on a rescue,” he said.

  “In two more years they will send a ship,” she said. “Or maybe four. They will send the fourth expedition, and it will rescue me.”

  She sounded so perfectly confident that for a moment Ryan believed it. Of course they would rescue her. Why had he ever thought they wouldn’t? And then common sense took over. “You can’t count on that,” he repeated.

  Estrela shrugged. “Or six years. Or, maybe I won’t even wait for a ship. I’ll live here.”

  “But, why?”

  “I like it here,” Estrela said. “I’ve decided to stay.” She looked at them, looked at their surprised expressions, and laughed. “I know. You thought that I was a survivor, that I would do anything to get on the return trip. I thought that too. That’s why I killed Trevor, to take his spot.”

  Tana looked up in surprise. “You—”

  Estrela had a distant smile. She nodded. “Yes. That’s right. I killed him.”

  Ah, Ryan thought. That should have been obvious. His death was too convenient. “Why?” he asked.

  “Why do you think?” she snapped back. “Because only two of us could return. Because he was one more person who might make it back in what should have been my place. And because he was a liability to the expedition. That’s why.”

  “What did you do?” Ryan asked.

  Estrela looked him right in the eyes. “I stole the battery out of his emergency beacon,” she said, “and then I made sure his gyro compass was miscalibrated. And a couple of other little things like that. I wanted to make sure that if he got lost, he would stay lost. He was always sloppy in checking his equipment; I figured it would only be a matter of time before he got lost.”

  “But why?” Tana said. “Are you sorry?”

  “I told you. Somebody had to die. I decided it would be him.”

  “I thought it was an accident,” Ryan said.

  “Call it an accident, then,” she said. She shrugged. “I didn’t force him to wander around and get lost, I guess. You can call it an accident, if it makes you feel better.”

  “And Commander Radkowski, too,” Ryan said,
suddenly realizing. “You thought he wouldn’t pick you. So you killed him. It wasn’t Brandon at all; it was you!”

  Estrela shook her head. “That was an accident. Sure, of course I wanted to kill Radkowski, didn’t you? But I’m not stupid. I was frantic when he died; I didn’t think we could make the pole without a leader.”

  “An accident,” Ryan said slowly.

  Estrela nodded. “He switched ropes at the last moment. He took the rope Trevor was supposed to use, and rappelled off the cliff before I could think of an excuse to stop him.”

  “Shit,” Ryan said. “So what the hell are we supposed to do now?” He paused for a moment, and then asked, “and why are you telling us this? You were home free now. Why didn’t you just kill one of us? We never would have known.”

  Estrela smiled. “I changed my mind.”

  20

  THE LAST CHANCE

  Tana used the day to continue her inventory of the supplies left at the Brazilian base, and Ryan checked out the snow rovers left behind by the Brazilian expedition. Regardless of what had happened on the long road since they had left Felis Dorsa, or who would stay behind on Mars, Estrela’s idea to return to the American base at Agamemnon was clearly a sound plan. And the one who stayed behind, whoever it would be, would need supplies and a working snow rover.

  Since that night they had not talked about Estrela’s confession. Ryan was working alone in the tiny hangar that held the snow rovers when Tana came to him. She stood there, silent, watching him work. At last she called his name, and he looked up.

  “Do you believe her?” Tana said. “I need to know.” She bit her lower lip. “Do you think she really did—?”

  Ryan had the fuel cell of a snow rover taken apart. He was carefully checking the seals, making sure that the sulfur poisoning had not penetrated and embrittled the power system. It was his way of avoiding thinking about it. He put the fuel cell down and looked at Tana, thinking. “Yes,” he said.