“Hello?”
“Sweetheart, it’s James. I’m back, safe and sound.”
“You bastard!”
“Huh?” That certainly wasn’t the response he’d anticipated. “What—?”
“You said you’d call ‘in a few hours’ if you were okay. That was yesterday! You left me all night thinking the worst—you dying alone somewhere, bleeding or suffocating. I was worried out of my mind about you. You didn’t even tell me where you were going! I couldn’t send anyone out to look for you. I couldn’t even come after you myself.”
“Well, I couldn’t call—”
“The hell you couldn’t! Don’t you ever do that to me again. You hear me, mister? I want your promise.”
James bowed his head sheepishly, even though she couldn’t see him over the radio. “Yes ma’am. I promise.”
Then, remembering the other point of the call, he perked up. “But we did get the bastard who was behind the bombing here at Site 23 and several others.”
Janice’s tone softened at once. “Oh. That’s good news. No, that’s great news!”
“We lost Lee Tennant, though.”
“Oh, no…. He was a good man.”
“Yeah, he was. Look, I’m gonna be stuck here for a while longer, helping to clean up and rebuild. Bruno says you can come visit for a few days—if you think you can stand the sight of me.”
“You just try and stop me, mister!”
* * * *
The initial repair and cleanup phase of the administrative and personnel portion of Mars Mining & Refining Site 23 took another month to finish. It would never again be quite the same as before, especially to those who’d lived through the experience. Refining operations, most of which occurred on the surface and were unaffected by the devastation underground, resumed the day after Tennant’s death. Time, and Earth’s hunger, waits for no man.
Despite his personal grief, Bruno Taggart had no choice but to pick up where Lee had left off. All Mother Earth really cared about was the raw materials Mars could send her. She’d grown no less hungry during the period when the site was offline, and the resources Site 23 provided were no less desperately needed.
The Priority One call Taggart received from Earth four days later did nothing to improve his foul mood or assuage his grief at his best friend’s murder.
“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it.”
As soon as he hung up, he pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to stave off another headache. Those goddamn, pencil-pushing, ass-kissing, do-anything-for-publicity bureaucrats! They don’t care that a good man—many good people—died here. All they care about is ‘favorable PR,’ ‘holo ops,’ and ‘goodwill.’
Why do I put up with this crap? I’m not cut out for this job. I’m an engineer, not a desk jockey!
I don’t know how Lee put up with all the BS that goes with being foreman. He shook his head. Maybe I should just call it quits. I’ve got enough years in with the company that I could retire comfortably.
He snorted at the thought. Yeah, right. And do what with your time? You know you’d be bored to tears playing shuffleboard with the old geezers back on Earth. You’re where you want to be, doing what you want to do. Quit whining and just figure out how to do the job without going crazy.
He sighed and pressed the appropriate key on his console to begin recording a v-mail.
* * * *
At the end of a typically long and exhausting day, James and Daniel returned to their room at the Princess of Mars Hotel. With several weeks of work to go, there was still rubble in the streets in places, but the reconstruction of the underground facility was finally beginning to show signs of progress.
Daniel checked his v-mails first and found a most welcome message from Kim, who also said hi to James.
James went next and received a needed lift from Janice’s message. He had one more message waiting, from Bruno Taggart. James found it difficult to see or talk with Taggart. Not because he had anything against the man, but simply because he reminded James that Lee Tennant was no longer around.
“Accept.”
“Hello, James. I received a call from Earth today. Please stop by my office in the morning before your shift so we can talk about it. Thanks. Taggart out.”
Daniel and James looked at one another. “Earth? I wonder what that’s all about.” James said.
Daniel shrugged. “There’s no way to tell from the message. He didn’t sound happy, though.”
“True, but right now I’m not sure there’s anything that could cheer Bruno up. At least he didn’t sound like he was mad at me for screwing something up.”
Daniel nodded. “There’s that. Well, no point worrying your pretty little head over it tonight. You’ll find out in the morning. In the meantime, what do you say we get cleaned up and grab some dinner? I’m starved.”
“Best offer I’ve had all night. Me first!” The two friends dashed for the bathroom.
* * * *
The next morning after breakfast, Daniel returned to his work crew and James headed for the office that once was Lee’s and now was Bruno’s. It bore little resemblance to how it had looked only a few days before when Taggart moved in. Gone was the bloodstained carpet and shattered paneling in the outer office. Gone was the scarred interior doorframe. Gone was any sign that Bella had died there. It looked like any other office in any other office building.
There was a new desk where Bella’s had been, but as yet no replacement for her.
James was shocked at the change. I don’t know whether to be upset that Bruno has seemingly swept Bella under the rug and moved on, or relieved that he doesn’t seem to be obsessing over her death the way Lee did.
Apparently hearing James enter the outer office, Taggart opened the inner door and stuck his head out. “Ah, James. Good morning. Come on in.”
James entered and noted a similar transformation in what had formerly been Lee’s office. The dark paneling had been replaced with brighter colors. The furniture, likewise, now had a lighter, more upbeat appearance. Is that simply his personal taste, or is he trying to make the place remind him less of Lee? He mentally shrugged.
They shook hands and James was offered a seat in the same place as the first time he had met Lee. Taggart sat where Tennant had sat. The entire tableau had a vaguely eerie feel to it.
“Thanks for coming, James. I know you have a shift coming up, so I won’t keep you long.” He paused to collect his thoughts for a moment. “I received a Priority One call yesterday from the chairman of MMR. It was about you.”
James’ eyebrows shot up. “Me?”
“More specifically, it was about the lichen spores you discovered. I’m sure it’s no surprise that the scientists back home are excited about your find. But you may not realize that there has been a media frenzy as well. Everyone wants to meet and/or interview the man who discovered extraterrestrial life.”
James waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t care about any of that.”
Taggart nodded. “I know you don’t, and that’s commendable. A lot of people your age—hell, a lot of people, period—would have gotten swelled heads over this discovery. They’d be looking for all the attention and accolades and money they could milk from the situation.”
James smiled crookedly. “Well, some of that did cross my mind when it first happened.”
“Of course it did.” Taggart smiled back. “That’s only normal. But the important thing is that you didn’t let it go to your head.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t have much time to think about it. All hell broke loose right after that. And now, with the bombs and Lee’s death—” He shrugged, noting how Taggart winced at his words. “It doesn’t seem all that important anymore.”
“I agree. Unfortunately, the chairman doesn’t. We’re a public company, which means we have stockholders to appease, and part of that is public opinion. Right now the public wants to see you, and the board of directors agrees. So they’re shipping you home for a publicity tour. And
it’s not just some hand-waving in a parade. There are some powerful political leaders who want to meet you. It looks like you have quite a few speaking engagements as well.”
“Speaking engagements? Oh, come on! You’ve got to be kidding me! I’ve got too much to do right here. I can’t abandon the reconstruction work at this site, or my field work back at Base Camp 9.”
“I know how you feel. It wouldn’t be my idea of a picnic either, but I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”
“They can’t really make me do that, can they?”
Taggart shrugged. “You remember that part of your contract that specified your duties here?”
James nodded.
“You remember the line that said, ‘and other duties as assigned’?”
“Not really, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Trust me, it’s there. And it means that for the next couple of years or so, until your contract expires, if they want you to fly all the way home to have a promotional cup of tea with the queen, that’s what you’ll do.”
“Suppose I quit and join another company here on Mars? They couldn’t force me then.”
“Perhaps not. But wouldn’t whichever mining company hired you try just as hard to milk you for publicity?”
James slumped in his chair. “I suppose.”
Taggart continued speaking. “I know it’s a nuisance, but it’s not all bad. I convinced the chairman that we still need you for a few more days. That’ll give you a chance to go back to Base Camp 9 to get the rest of your things. I know you packed light when you came out here with the spores, expecting to be back at the camp in a few days. It’ll also give you time to say good-bye to your friends there in person instead of by v-mail.”
James bobbed his head. “Thanks. It doesn’t exactly make up for having to go all the way to Earth; still, I appreciate the thought.”
At least I’ll be able to see Janice before I leave. But we’re just starting to get serious. I don’t want to have to leave her behind for as much as a year.
“I’m not done yet. You’ll also be paid for many of your public appearances. I understand there is some interest in hearing,” he used his fingers to make quotation marks in the air, “‘the true story’ of your adventures. Who knows where that might lead?”
James brightened a bit at this news.
“And, for the pièce de résistance, I wangled you a two-week vacation with your family in Winnipeg after the dog-and-pony show. I figure you’ll need it by then.”
Finally, James had something to smile about. “Thanks, Bruno. I believe you’re right.”
* * * *
Four days later, at Base Camp 9, James threw his gear in his now well-worn duffel and walked out to the Cat that was preparing to head back to Site 23. Janice had decided to use some of her vacation time to see James off on the ship. After she finished some last-minute work, she planned to meet him at Site 23 the next day and ride the elevator up with him.
James wasn’t looking forward to the long trip back to Earth, but one doesn’t turn down a command appearance before the Secretary General of the United Nations.
Not to mention several heads of state—including the Queen of England; Taggart wasn’t kidding about that!
One especially doesn’t refuse when one’s employer insists—at least, not if one wishes to remain gainfully employed.
As James was beginning to learn, along with the perks of celebrity comes the baggage of responsibility.
Two months of personal appearances, interviews and lectures, sandwiched between lengthy trips to and from Earth, weren’t high on the list of things he wanted to be doing. Nor was being away from Janice for so long. Unfortunately, in his absence she had to help pick up the slack at Base Camp 9.
There was a plus side, however. The trip would give him the opportunity to visit his family while he was there—and the hefty appearance fees his newly acquired agent on Earth was demanding on his behalf for noncompany-related appearances wouldn’t hurt his bank account either.
An agent! Who’d a thunk it? All hail James, the conquering hero. He sketched a wry smile.
Maybe when I get back Janice and I can talk about settling down somewhere.
* * * *
The next morning, after a good night’s sleep and on the way to the maglev train heading to Barsoom, James stopped by Dr. Shallitt’s rebuilt office.
“Hi, Doc. The new digs look great! How have things progressed in your research since I’ve been gone?”
“James, m’ boy! It’s good to see you again. Come in, come in! Have a seat.” He gestured to the chair facing his desk.
“We’ve learned a lot about these critters of yours in the past couple of months. Of course, I’ve turned over control of the research to Dr. Turner. He’s much more qualified for that sort of thing than I am. I’ve gone back to treating my human patients, but I keep an eye on things out of curiosity.”
James smiled. “I remember we were worried about the lichens taking over the site, but I haven’t seen any damage since I got back; just a lot of lichen covering the walls. What happened?”
“You remember that little experiment I was going to try with the grow lights? It’s amazing the transformation that overcame the lichens. Before, when there wasn’t a lot of “sunlight” they hopped around trying to eat everything; but as soon as I hit them with light in the proper wavelengths, they promptly anchored themselves to the nearest patch of floor or wall and began basking. Pretty soon they were sucking in excess CO2 and producing oxygen like crazy. It looks like we have ourselves an efficient little oxygen factory here. Since we hooked up the grow lights a few weeks ago, the O2 levels in Site 23 have increased appreciably. We were able to reduce our dependence on other sources by fourteen percent.”
“That’s great! I’m glad they’re not hopping around underfoot all the time, eating holes in the floor. But don’t all the Earth plants we brought with us convert carbon dioxide into oxygen? Do we really need the lichens for that? And don’t we produce enough oxygen from the mining operations?”
“You’re absolutely right about the Earth plants; but they all require water and fertilizer. They’re specifically here either for food or to produce oxygen. Sure, we could use terrestrial lichens, but they’re much too slow-growing for our oxygen needs. Yes, we can get all the oxygen we need from the refinery, but it’s extra work to bottle and ship it to the various camps. If they produce their own they’re less dependent on us. Plus, we can release the excess into the atmosphere to aid in the terraforming process.
“With these lichens, as long as we leave the grow lights running and have enough humidity in the air, these guys are slaving away around the clock, helping us essentially for free. And they tend to stay put as long as the lights are on. As a result, they effectively take up no usable floor space—unlike the gardens. Of course, the lichens aren’t as pretty as the plants in the gardens, or as tasty as the food plants, but hey, you can’t have everything!”
The two shared a grin.
After chatting for the better part of an hour, James and Shallitt donned EVA suits and visited the graves of twenty-six victims of Jardin’s insane act—the ones who hadn’t been returned to Earth.
The two men stood in silence before the graves of Lee Tennant and Isabella Walker—Bella—for many long minutes.
James spoke first. “Lee never had a chance to grieve for Bella, so I guess it’s up to us.
Tom Shallitt nodded. “She was a sweet girl.”
Leland Donald Tennant and the others were buried in the crushed regolith that passed for soil, not far from the main complex. Gwen Tennant had told Bruno Taggart that rather than ship her father’s body back to Earth, he should be buried on Mars. After all, he’d devoted most of his adult life to the planet.
Near the graves was a bronze plaque—made from copper and tin smelted on-site—set in a slab of Martian granite. The memorial commemorated all eighty-eight victims by name, whether buried there or on Earth. Another memorial on
Barsoom similarly remembered the fourteen killed in the elevator car bombing. Aboard the Ares Flyer, a plaque welded to the interior wall of the engine room memorialized Bernie Jamison.
More than one tear escaped from James McKie’ closed eyelids. One man playing God, and 103 victims. He shook his head in sorrow and disgust.
The two men stood at the gravesite a bit longer before Dr. Shallitt spoke again. “You know, son, I’ve been on Mars now for eleven years. In that time I’ve lost a number of patients for a great many reasons. Some I’ve known quite well, but I won’t miss any of them as much as I miss Lee. Bruno is doing a great job filling in for Lee as foreman, but he’s not Lee. It just won’t be the same without him.”
“I didn’t know him as long as you did, doc, but I miss him too. He was a good boss and a good man. He didn’t deserve to die when he did, or at the hands of that bastard.”
“I know it wasn’t fair, James. Lee died well before his time; but you have to put it behind you. What’s done is done. They’re both dead, and the feud died with them.”
James nodded slowly. “I know.”
They stood in respectful silence a bit longer; then it was time for James to leave.
* * * *
Using information gathered from the deathbed holo confession of Jardin’s thug, the coordinated efforts of Security forces from more than a dozen main sites and base camps closed in on Jardin’s crime network. They captured twenty-six people and charged them with crimes ranging from extortion and aggravated assault to kidnapping and murder. The twenty-four convicted felons were shipped back to Earth for incarceration. The other two reportedly hanged themselves while in custody—one of them after seemingly beating himself bloody while handcuffed.
Many kilometers from the gravesites at MMR Site 23, Douglas Jardin’s cremated remains reposed in a storage drum inside a cargo locker in the Security office of Emerald Star Base Camp 7.
The Imperative Chronicles, Books One and Two: The Mars Imperative & The Tesserene Imperative Page 31