The Season of Passage

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by Unknown


  Terry scowled. 'There was a screw up at the printers. Its release has been delayed two months.'

  'Are you upset?' Dr Palmer asked.

  'If I am, I'm sure it's because I hated my mother,' Terry said.

  Dr Palmer laughed again. 'You should have my job and let me write about cockroaches.' He scooted them out the door. 'Now you two run along and have a merry Christmas.'

  'Merry Christmas, Doctor,' Terry said.

  'Merry Christmas, Ted,' Jennifer said.

  Outside in the heat and crowds, Terry asked Jennifer, 'How about spending tomorrow at my sister's? She called and said she'd love to have us. You could hang out with my niece, Rebecca. She's your age. You met her once.'

  'Hmmm,' Jennifer considered. 'If you want, Terry. But I was thinking how nice it would be to play in the snow. There's snow at your cabin. I read it in the paper.'

  'There's Daniel at my cabin,' Terry said. They had visited Wyoming twice since Lauren had left for Mars, enough times for Daniel to have fallen completely under Jennifer's spell. He worshiped her. Jennifer thought he was pretty neat, too.

  Jennifer blushed. 'That's not the only reason. The lake will be frozen. We can go ice skating.'

  'I don't know about that. It's a big lake. Even when it freezes, there are thin spots. I'd hate to fall in those cold waters. Your muscles would cramp in a second. I remember Lauren told me a girl drowned in the lake at the end of summer because of cramps. Oh, you know about her. Daniel told you both.'

  Jennifer looked at him. 'Daniel didn't say anything about a girl drowning.'

  'Lauren said he told you both. I remember.'

  'No girl drowned. You can ask Daniel when we get there.'

  Terry chuckled. 'When we get there?'

  Jennifer grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction of his car. 'Let's hurry! We have to pack. We can use your work credit card to pay for the airline tickets. Daniel told me he makes wonderful snowmen.'

  Terry allowed himself to be dragged down the street, on his way to Wyoming. The paper had been on him to take his

  vacation time anyway. 'We have to be back in Houston when Lauren wakes up,' he said. 'We can't stay forever.'

  Jennifer stopped and gave him one of her patented penetrating looks. 'I want to stay there until she returns, Terry.'

  'That won't be possible.'

  'Then let's all go there together as soon as she comes home.'

  He shrugged. 'What if Lauren wants to go to Disneyland?'

  Jennifer was insistent. 'You have to promise me, Terry. It's important.'

  'All right,' he said, not sure what the big deal was.

  They were still in Wyoming on January 3rd. Christmas had been pleasant. Jennifer loved her typewriter. From the sound of the keys, she was already typing better than forty words a minute. She continued to work seriously on her story. She had bought him a Ping-Pong table; or she said she had - it was in Houston. She gave him a single paddle wrapped up. Terry figured she must have been saving the allowance NASA sent her out of Lauren's salary. The gift was a stroke of brilliance on her part. Throughout college he had played regularly and had loved it. Yet, to the best of his knowledge, he could not remember telling either Lauren or Jennifer about how much he enjoyed the game. He was looking forward to it.

  Jennifer had also knitted Terry a scarf, which was coming in handy on this particular vacation. Through the cabin window, Terry could see the snow falling steadily on the nearby trees. Daniel was visiting; he had just returned inside with a pile of fresh logs. Jennifer had a roaring fire going. Together the kids sat beside the flames, talking quietly.

  Terry turned away from the video phone, excited. He had just spoken to friends at Mission Control. 'Jenny, Daniel,' he said, 'Houston says Lauren will be awake at six tomorrow evening. We should catch the twelve o'clock flight back.'

  Jennifer was running her right hand through the flames, a habit of hers that always made Terry nervous. Actually, her running was more of a stroll. He didn't see how she didn't burn herself.

  'We won't be able to talk to her, though,' Jennifer said, gloomy. 'We'll have to wait a long time to hear what she says, and then she'll have to wait a long time to hear us.'

  'You can't argue with the speed of light,' Terry said. 'But we can still have a conversation, in a way. We'll get to see her on the screen.'

  'She'll be on the TV,' Jennifer said. 'If we stayed here we can see her just the same.'

  'You don't want to be at Mission Control while they're exploring Mars?' Terry asked, amazed.

  'I want to be here,' she said.

  'I can't figure you out,' Terry said.

  'I haven't finished my story,' Jennifer said.

  'I hardly see what that has to do with anything,' Terry said.

  'She's gone,' Jennifer said softly. 'She'll be just a picture on the screen. She'll be only a voice on the speaker. I feel closer to Lauren here, where we had fun together.'

  'But I can't stay, even if I wanted to,' Terry said. 'I'm covering the exploration for the paper. You know that. I have to be at Mission Control. Anyway, I want to be as close to the action as possible.'

  'Here is closer,' Jennifer said in the same serious tone, watching the flames, her long yellow hair shining in the orange light. 'Lauren liked here best. When she's on Mars, she'll think of being here. She loved the forest and the lake. You go if you have to. I can stay with Daniel and his brother. I'll come here each day to work on my story, and we can talk on the phone. You can tell me what is happening with Lauren.'

  'Daniel?' Terry asked, appealing for help. That was a mistake. Apparently plans had already been made.

  'Yes, sir,' Daniel said briskly. 'My brother said Jenny can stay with us. He and his wife like her a lot. You know, we don't live far.'

  'But Lauren will want to hear your voice when she wakes up, Jenny,' Terry said. 'She'll worry.'

  Jennifer sighed. 'I can't speak with her when she's there.'

  'Aren't you being a little ridiculous?' Terry said.

  She was suddenly upset. 'I don't want to go! I don't want to know.' She added in a whisper, 'I'm afraid.'

  'There's nothing to be afraid of,' Terry said. 'Their ship can't fail. It's been tested a million times. Plus there is nothing on Mars that can harm them.'

  Jennifer waved her hand through the flames again, so slowly that Terry suddenly sat straight up in his chair and almost yelled. Yet her flesh remained unaffected. The silver ring on her right thumb shone bright in the hot light.

  'It's cold on Mars,' Jennifer said.

  Terry was impatient. 'You're beginning to run away from stuff. You know that, don't you?'

  A log in the fireplace cracked loudly, spewing forth a shower of sparks that momentarily glittered around her small form. Jennifer slowly knelt back on her ankles. Daniel watched her intently, with a peculiar look in his eyes that Terry found disturbing.

  Maybe he does really worship her.

  'I'm sorry, Terry,' Jennifer said. 'But I must be here when Lauren thinks of Earth and dreams of coming home.

  When she returns, she will have to come here, no matter what. This place will be in her mind like an important picture she thinks she's lost.'

  Daniel nodded gravely. 'Yeah.'

  Terry snorted. 'You're talking a bunch of nonsense.'

  'I'm not leaving,' Jennifer said plainly.

  Terry sighed in resignation. She was one kid he had never been able to control. He doubted anyone could have. 'I'll tell Lauren you're in good hands,' he said.

  'You will tell her everything about me,' Jennifer said.

  THIRTEEN

  Lauren Wagner's first conscious sensation was of floating, a feeling of being suspended in a colorless fluid where there was neither light nor darkness. She could have been in her mother's womb, and for a long time she drifted without the distracting motion of thoughts or images. She was resting, she knew that much, and she did not want to be disturbed.

  After what seemed an eternity, she realized she was waking
up. Memories sprouted. Her name was Lauren Wagner. She was a famous astronaut, and a surgeon, too. Soon she would be going to Mars. There was much to do, much to learn. She would have to leave Jennifer and Terry. It was a shame, but it wasn't going to happen today. It was going to happen tomorrow. Now nothing mattered and everything could wait.

  Lauren began to go back to sleep.

  However, a voice spoke in her ear and suddenly Lauren remembered where she was, and that she had already left her family.

  [You are waking up nicely, Lauren. Make no effort to move. Talk only if comfortable.]

  I'm the doctor here.

  She opened her eyes.

  Except for the faint glow of her monitors, the ship was dark. Yet even as she watched, a dull red light streamed

  through the window above her hibernaculum. It took her more than a minute to realize the light was coming from Mars. A bleep from her monitors cautioned her not to get too excited. She closed her eyes and took slow deep breaths. Her ribs felt tight. She wiggled a toe, which cracked loudly. Starting at her feet and moving slowly toward her head, she systematically contracted and relaxed all her major muscles. After a while she was able to move her arms and legs comfortably. Again she opened her eyes, this time studying the monitors closely. Everyone was alive and doing well. She noticed that her own blood was no longer circulating from the shunt in her arm. It was strange to think how many times it had been reprocessed while she slept.

  'Open a line to Houston, Friend,' Lauren whispered.

  [Yes, Lauren.]

  Mission Control would expect a profound statement: One long sleep for man, one big nightmare for mankind. Lauren moistened her throat. 'This is Dr Wagner. How is Earth?'

  Twenty minutes would elapse before they received her message. Lauren tried to imagine the reaction. There would be a celebration. People would slap each other on the back and shake hands. Bottles of champagne would be opened. Jennifer and Terry would be there to enjoy it.

  'Open the lid on my hibernaculum, Friend.'

  [Yes, Lauren.]

  There was a sharp hiss and then a blast of cold air. Lauren shivered. 'What is the internal temperature of the Nova, Friend?'

  [Seventy-six degrees Fahrenheit, Lauren.]

  'Raise it ten degrees. Give me manual control of the other hibernaculums.'

  [Yes, Lauren.]

  Lauren halted the circulation of the Antabolene in her friends' bodies and began to warm their hibernaculums. Then she pulled herself upright with great effort and peered out the nearby porthole. The others would not awaken for hours. She was alone with a view no other living human being had seen. Through the porthole, Mars was twice the size of the Moon as seen from Earth, richly colored, with dazzling white polar caps that topped a haunting red globe. If nothing else, she thought, they had come this far.

  Lauren began to massage her legs, noting with displeasure how her muscle tone had gone flat and her color had faded. She would have to start walking immediately, and she would be first under the sun lamp, and to hell with what Gary said.

  'I want a warm glass of juice, Friend,' she said.

  [Which flavor would you prefer, Lauren?]

  'Coconut pineapple.'

  [Yes, Lauren.]

  A thin green tube extended from the wall near her head, and she sucked on the juice. It removed a bad taste in her mouth and gave her a new level of strength. 'This is good,' she said.

  [Yes, Lauren.]

  'Turn on the auxiliary lamps in section B.'

  [Yes, Lauren.]

  Soft yellow light flooded her compartment. Across from her, Jessica and Bill lay like black statues in their hibernaculums.

  'Is the Nova in good shape, Friend?' she asked.

  [Yes, Lauren.]

  'Very good. I want to hear some music, vocal level. Put on a disc of the rock group called the Doors.'

  [Which one, Lauren?]

  'I don't know. Which one is Jim's favorite?' [I'm not sure, Lauren. He often plays 'Strange Days.'] '"Strange days."' Lauren muttered. 'Yes, that sounds appropriate. Put that one on, Friend.' [Yes, Lauren.]

  By the time Lauren was able to walk without support she had heard all of 'Strange Days,' 'Waiting for the Sun,' and 'The Soft Parade.' Jim was right - it was wonderful music.

  Four hours later the rest of the crew had all revived, as weak as newborn kittens. Lauren was in communication with Houston and was surprised to find that Jennifer was not at Mission Control. In a taped message - with the time delay, they were all taped - Terry explained she was staying in Wyoming with Daniel and his family. Lauren assumed that meant Jennifer was not in school, which she wasn't crazy about. Terry also said that he was working on his book, and that she had received an erotic gift from Santa for Christmas. He looked uncomfortable talking into his camera. Lauren sent him a return message saying she was sure his present would get plenty of use. She didn't press him about Jennifer's absence. It was very good to see him again.

  She figured NASA listened to her message a few seconds before Terry heard it. No doubt the president was still worried about national security.

  Using the best of Friend's freeze-dried formulas, Lauren cooked breakfast for the starving sleepyheads: a glass of powdered milk and a thin vegetable soup. Jim, who was now sitting up in bed, asked if he could have a cup of coffee. Lauren reminded him that he had been sleeping for over three months and that of course he couldn't have any coffee. Gary told Jim from across the room that he had a bottle of Scotch tucked away and that he would be more

  than happy to share his wealth as soon as he was strong enough to fetch it.

  Lauren immediately went to Gary's private locker, and did indeed find a fifth of Scotch, cleverly hidden beneath a mound of science fiction paperbacks, the latest issue of Playboy which was now three months old - and a framed picture of his mom and dad. While Jim and Gary howled helplessly in their hibernaculums, she poured the Scotch down the disposal chute.

  Then on impulse she checked Jim's locker. She almost fell to the ship's axis with what she saw: two cans of instant coffee, five bags of Oreo cookies, ten bars of Swiss chocolate, two boxes of sugar jellies from England, and a giant lollipop from Disneyland. How he had smuggled the goods aboard a ship that had never been closer than two hundred miles to Earth was beyond Lauren. Knowing she had found his treasures, Jim begged her to have mercy. He promised not to eat any sweets for two days. Against her better judgment, she said OK. At least she knew now why he hadn't lost any weight at the isolation complex.

  Outside their portholes, Mars grew. Three days had elapsed since they had awoken. Lauren leaned against the wall of their compact gym and watched as Jim labored uphill on a treadmill. There were wires attached to his chest and electrocardiogram lines tracing across a nearby screen. Lauren was worried. Jim's heartbeat was slightly irregular. He had MVP - Mitral Valve Prolapse. The condition was generally not serious. It was caused by a slight loosening of the tissue that held the mitral valve in place inside the heart. Most people who had MVP only noticed it when their hearts fluttered. Occasionally chest pain and shortness of breath could make the person think he was having a heart attack. But the symptoms came seldom, and never

  led to a heart attack, unless there was an underlying pathology.

  What worried Lauren was that Jim had not had MVP three months ago. Had the prolonged hibernation brought it on? She considered consulting with physicians back home. Yet she feared they might forbid his landing on Mars, just to be on the safe side. She knew that such a decision would devastate him.

  It would probably cause him more stress than the exploration.

  Lauren watched as he struggled to breathe through the mask that covered his mouth and nose. He was tiring already, and he had completed less than half his exercise time. She motioned for him to stop.

  'I'm not tired,' he said, removing the respirator. 'Shouldn't I do another ten minutes, Lauren?'

  She glanced at the screen again. 'Wait an hour. Then finish the other ten.'

  He point
ed to the peaks and valleys of his electrocardiogram. 'How am I doing?'

  'OK. How do you feel?'

  'Great. Now tell me, is there a problem?'

  There was no sense in worrying him. Most people who had MVP didn't even know it, and lived happier lives because of the ignorance.

  'You're fine,' she said. 'I just want you to come along a bit slower than the rest of us.' She plucked a white hair from his chest. 'Remember, you're our old man. If the Martians show up and want to wrestle, leave them to Gary and me.'

  Now it was six days after awakening. They were strapped in the Hawk, preparing to break away from the Nova and land in the Utopia Planitia region, near the derelict Rover. Mark was alone at the Nova's controls. Since entering orbit, he

  had photographed their first landing spot extensively through a high-powered telescope. After studying the pictures, and after a brief consultation with Houston, Bill had relocated their touchdown approximately two miles northwest of where the Rover had put down. Bill said the terrain was smoother there. Unfortunately, the next time they set down, in the volcanic Tharsis region where the Russians had landed, they would have one and only one touchdown area, a plateau located beside Olympus Mons, the tallest known mountain in the solar system.

  Jim's MVP ceased to affect his endurance. Lauren didn't contact Houston and never did tell him about it. It was her first major medical decision on the mission, and she was not going by the book. She hoped she didn't live to regret it.

  [Thirty seconds to break away.]

  Friend's circuits were duplicated in full aboard the Hawk. He would continue as their faithful companion while they lived on the planet. Leaving half his brain in orbit didn't seem to bother him in the least.

  'Give me a countdown from five, Friend,' Gary said, his voice calm.

  [Five. Four. Three. Two. One.]

  There was a gentle shove. Outside their windows, the Nova began to float slowly away.

  'You're looking good,' Mark said over their headsets.

  When they had drifted a couple of hundred yards, Gary rotated the Hawk, so that the ship's nose was pointed directly at Mars. Then he fired their auxiliary thrusters. As they coasted downwards, the red globe seemed to fall toward them, a huge ball ready to snuff out their puny existence. Because Mars had an atmosphere - thin though it was - their descent procedure was different than the one astronauts used to land on the moon. An atmosphere meant friction, and friction meant heat. Gary would use

 

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