Mars

by Ben Bova

  Making his way back toward the airlock in the bulky hard suit, Jamie passed Ilona. She sat on one of the benches, looking exhausted. She too had put on makeup and had even wrapped a bright flowered scarf around her coverall collar. But she still looked terribly pale and weak.

  Jamie tried to be cheerful. “Ready to be famous?”

  She smiled faintly. No amount of makeup could hide the strain in her face, the redness of her eyes. But maybe she could get past the cameras okay. The big story today is supposed to be the discovery of life on Mars, not our physical condition.

  The two-way transmission lag between Earth and Mars was now more than twenty-five minutes, so a live give-and-take interview was impossible. Instead, the media reporters and the mission controllers had worked out a different protocol. Twelve reporters had been selected from the swarms that had descended on Kaliningrad, Houston, Washington, and other capitals the instant the news of life on Mars had been released. Each of the twelve was in a different location on Earth. Each would ask a question, to be answered by one of the Mars explorers. There would be no follow-on questions. Alberto Brumado, in Washington, would fill in the time between question and answer with commentary and chat among the mission controllers, project administrators, and politicians assembled in Kaliningrad and elsewhere.

  Many politicians had come to place themselves before the cameras, eager to bask in the glow of the great discovery and allow the world’s media to interview them on global TV.

  Jamie wondered if Edith would be among the questioners. Not likely, he decided. She’s just started with the network; she’s not high enough on their ladder for this.

  The two women sat in the cockpit seats, with Jamie and Connors standing behind them. The hour had barely been enough time for Connors to dig out one of the rover’s wheels and then drag himself back inside. He had taken off only the top half of his hard suit, and stood beside Jamie with his boots still on and his lily-white leggings spattered with red dust that exuded the stinging odor of ozone, despite his efforts to vacuum them clean.

  Vosnesensky was at the comm screen in the dome, Dr. Li up in orbit. The people on Earth could speak with any of the units of the Mars expedition that they wished to converse with.

  Brumado came on the screen before the conference officially began. He congratulated his daughter, and Joanna sent him a loving thank-you. Jamie was almost jealous of the warm smile she offered her father. When her message finally reached him Brumado gave no indication that he was shocked or even worried by his daughter’s appearance; she had put up a smiling front without once mentioning their physical condition.

  He’s probably too excited to even notice, Jamie thought. Maybe we’re all too worked up about how lousy we feel. If it doesn’t show on television, how bad can it really be?

  The order in which the reporters asked their questions had been picked at Random by the mission control mainframe computer in Kaliningrad. Everyone thought that was a fittingly scientific way to handle the problem of priority. The reporter selected to be first was Hong Kong’s foremost media personality, a strikingly beautiful woman with skin like porcelain and almond eyes that had inspired poetry.

  “First, I wish to congratulate you on the most significant discovery in the history of the space age,” she said in flawless British English. Her voice was a silvery soprano; she almost sang out the words. “My question is: Which of you actually made the discovery, and how did you feel when you first realized that you had found life on Mars?”

  Joanna turned doubtfully in the chair toward Ilona, sitting beside her. The face of the Hong Kong woman was replaced with Brumado’s, who would fill in the time until their response reached Kaliningrad. The sound volume automatically went down to a barely audible level.

  “I can answer that,” Ilona said, forcing a smile. “Dr. Brumado was the first to realize that the forms she was examining in the microscope were alive. She is our biologist, and it is she who actually made the discovery.”

  Joanna said, “Dr. Malater was with me. We were working together on the samples we had gathered that morning. I merely happened to be the first to examine them in the microscope, but we worked together on the collection and preparation of the samples. You would have to say that we discovered them together.”

  Ilona took over again, her husky voice more than an octave lower than Joanna’s. “As for how we felt—it was the most exciting moment of my life. Better than sex.”

  Pale as she was, Joanna flushed. “It was very thrilling,” she agreed. “I think that at the first moment neither of us could believe it. Then, when we finally convinced ourselves that it was real, that the specimen in the microscope was actually a life form, we looked at each other and could not say a word.”

  “Which is very unusual for me,” Ilona blurted.

  “We realized that this was one of the most momentous discoveries in the history of science. I felt … what is the word in English? Awed. Yes, that is right. It was an awesome moment Truly awesome.”

  “I felt like dancing,” Ilona said.

  Jamie added silently, But you were too tired and weak to try.

  “We must all remember,” Joanna added, more seriously, “that it was not merely Dr. Malater and I who made this discovery. Dr. Waterman was the one who recognized that this rift valley would be the most likely place to find life. The other scientists and astronauts—without them we could never have reached this place. All the men and women of this great expedition, all the men and women supporting this mission back on Earth, they have each played their role in this discovery. We are a team, a team that reaches across more than two hundred million kilometers of space and embraces two worlds. Each of us has played an important part.”

  Jamie said to himself, She’s her father’s daughter, all right. There’s a future for her in the politics of science.

  The questions were mainly superficial. Connors was asked by a bored-looking Frenchman how it felt to be the only black man on Mars. The astronaut grinned a one-word answer: “Terrific!” But once the screen showed Brumado talking with one of the opportunistic politicians, Connors muttered, “Fucking pissant.”

  When Jamie’s turn came he was asked by an American reporter how it felt to be vindicated in his battle to change the mission plan and make the traverse to the Grand Canyon.

  Wishing that Edith had possessed the clout to make it to the news conference, suddenly lonely for the sight of her blonde cheerful smile, Jamie replied to the pinch-faced man: “There was never a battle. We had a mission plan, but it had been made up on Earth long before we got here. Fortunately, the mission controllers and the expedition commander, Dr. Li—as well as Cosmonaut Vosnesensky and my fellow scientists—all saw the wisdom of altering the plan so we could take advantage of what we found here on the ground. We had the flexibility to change the plan, to take advantage of new discoveries.”

  Jamie realized that there was another tremendous advantage to being on Mars: the interviewers could not interrupt you. Nor could they stop you from going on at length and giving the complete answer that you wanted to give.

  “Another thing,” he said, forgetting his tiredness for a moment. “It’s more than just simple lichen that we’ve discovered, life doesn’t exist in one species alone; we know that from Earth. There’s got to be a Martian ecology here, a chain of living organisms. Certainly there must be organisms that are lower down on the chain of life than the lichen we’ve found. But the interesting question is, are there organisms higher on the chain? Or were there such higher organisms at one time in the past?”

  He glanced down at Joanna, who was smiling encouragement at him. Connors patted his shoulder.

  “Here in this Grand Canyon we discovered a rock formation that might not be natural. It’s a long shot, of course, but there may have once been intelligent Martians. We have the opportunity—the responsibility, really—to come back to Mars with expeditions that are equipped to stay for much longer so they can tackle some of these questions.”

  Ja
mie enjoyed seeing Brumado’s eyes sparkle when his little speech finally reached Earth.

  The next reporter threw away his prepared question and asked, “Do you mean that there might have been intelligent creatures on Mars?” His eyes were wide with incredulity.

  “Yes,” answered Jamie firmly. “Might have been. We don’t know if there actually were. The chances against seem very high, but—we just don’t know enough about Mars to say, one way or the other.”

  The display screen picture broke up momentarily as every one of the reporters tried to get in a question about intelligent Martians. Brumado restored calm only by shouting over their voices the name of the next reporter picked by the computer.

  All of the following questions were about “real, live Martians.” Most of them were directed at Jamie, who felt that their questions were generally trivial and terribly repetitious. He remembered a friend of his, a lawyer, who always replied to questions he felt to be redundant with a curt, “Asked and answered.”

  Joanna interrupted him once to say, “I want to make certain that everyone understands exactly what we have found here on Mars. We have discovered living organisms, somewhat the same as terrestrial lichens. We have not found any evidence at all for the existence of intelligent Martians, even intelligent Martians who might have become extinct ages ago.”

  Jamie nodded agreement. “That’s right. My speculations about intelligent Martians are nothing more than speculations, based on a rock formation that we’ve seen from a distance.”

  At last Brumado announced that each of the twelve chosen reporters had been heard from. “Now we must break away to the White House. The President and Vice-President of the United States have a few words to say to our explorers.”

  The screen flickered, then showed the President smiling from a deep leather-covered wing chair by a marble fireplace and mantle. A portrait of Thomas Jefferson was visible behind him.

  “I want to add my congratulations and best wishes to you on Mars,” said the President in his warmest manner. “You have made a magnificent accomplishment and everyone in the nation, everyone in the world, is thrilled by your discovery.”

  The view on the screen widened to show the Vice-President, wearing a kelly green pants suit that offset her blonde coiffure nicely, sitting in a smaller armchair across the empty fireplace from the President. A bronze bust of Jefferson stood on the table to the right of her chair.

  “I want to offer my personal congratulations to you all, and to assure you that this administration will do everything in its power to support the further exploration of Mars.” She lowered her eyes modestly for a moment, but her voice remained sharp and strong as she added, “And if the people of this great nation choose me to lead them in the next administration, we will support continued missions to Mars as well as the economic development of cislunar space.”

  Connors huffed. “I wonder if she knows what cislunar means?”

  “One of her aides does,” Jamie said. “That’s good enough for now.”

  Brumado’s face came back on the screen, announcing that the President of the Russian Federation would now say a few words.

  The two-way radio buzzed. Jamie leaned between the two women, turned off the sound on the TV altogether, and flicked the answering switch.

  “Li Chengdu here.” The expedition commander’s voice issued thinly from the radio speaker. “I am afraid that there is a long line of politicians waiting to appear on television. It would be more useful if you prepared your vehicle to leave the valley rather than watching their orations. We will tape everything here so that you may see it when you have the time.”

  Jamie turned to glance at Connors, who nodded agreement. “Yessir,” he said. “We’ll contact the dome when we’re ready to move.”

  “Very good.”

  Ilona got up slowly from the right-hand seat and straightened to her full height and stretched her back, catlike. “Call me if they get down to the Israeli prime minister.”

  Jamie laughed and reached for the switch to turn off the radio.

  “One further question.” Li’s voice froze them all. “What is the status of your physical condition?”

  Glancing at their tired, wan faces, Jamie replied, “Whatever it is, we’ve all got it. Aches, weakness—it’s slowing us down.”

  “I have decided to send Dr. Yang down to the dome. She will arrive within a few hours to assist Dr. Reed. It is imperative that you return to the dome within forty-eight hours so that you may be given medical attention.”

  “But what is it?” Jamie asked. “What’s wrong with us all?”

  For a long moment there was no sound from the radio speaker except the faint crackle of static. Finally Li said, “We do not yet know. But based on the rate of deterioration of your health, it is urgent that you reach the dome for treatment quickly. As quickly as you can.”

  Jamie started to ask what would happen if they couldn’t reach the dome in the next forty-eight hours. But he held his tongue. He did not really want to hear the answer.

  EARTH

  WASHINGTON: The Vice-President’s smile disappeared the instant the last of the camera crew left.

  It was unusual for the media corps to swarm into the Vice-President’s office, but this had been a very unusual day. A news conference from Mars. And that damned Indian had weaseled out of his end of the bargain.

  She glared at the two aides who remained in the room. Her media secretary was at the little cabinet that served as a bar. Harvey Todd, her aide for science and technology, was fidgeting nervously as he slowly paced in front of the curtained windows. He’s got a lot to be nervous about, the Vice-President said to herself. She got up from the small sofa where she had dealt with the reporters and stalked to her desk. It was a tiny, delicately curved desk of gleaming dark rosewood, beautifully proportioned to the Vice-President’s own slight frame.

  Her media secretary handed her a frosted glass of vodka citron as the Vice-President sat herself in the maroon swivel chair behind the desk.

  The Vice-President took one small sip of her ice-cold drink, then said to Todd, “Well?”

  He looked startled. He was the small, nervous type, his hair thinning despite the fact that he was barely into his thirties. He looked soft, but inwardly he was sharp as a razor; he carried degrees from Princeton in political science and management. His favorite author was Niccolò Machiavelli.

  He swallowed hard and tried to smile. “I thought the conference went very well, didn’t you?” he asked the media secretary, a note of desperation in his voice.

  She nodded but did not smile.

  “That goddammed Indian never said a word about backing me,” the Vice-President snarled. “I went out on the limb for him and he just talked about frigging Martians!”

  “Well, he is a scientist …”

  “Bullshit!”

  The media secretary sat herself on the sofa that her boss had just vacated and crossed her legs primly. “We have his written statement,” she said. “You can release it whenever you choose to.”

  “He should have said he was going to support me,” the Vice-President insisted.

  “I’m not sure that this particular hookup was the right time to make such an announcement,” Todd said timidly, rubbing a forefinger across his round chin.

  “What the hell did they teach you at Princeton?” the Vice-President fairly screamed. “What would be a better time, with the whole frigging world watching on TV? An endorsement from Mars, for god’s sake! What could make a bigger impression on the voters, you jelly-brained imbecile?”

  The media secretary headed for the bar. Todd tried to return his boss’s angry stare but failed; he turned away and focused instead on the painting he had arranged to have hanging in the office: an original Bonestell starscape.

  “I can think of a better time for him to announce his support,” said the media secretary as she poured straight bourbon into a tumbler full of ice cubes.

  “You can?”

  “When
they land back on Earth. Everybody will be watching that. And you won’t have to compete with Martians for the media’s attention, either.”

  The Vice-President’s angry expression softened into a thoughtful scowl. She sipped at her drink. Todd cast an utterly grateful look at the media secretary. She smiled at him and mouthed silently, You owe me one.

  SOL 38: AFTERNOON

  “What’d I tell you?” Connors puffed. “Light as feathers.”

  The astronaut and Jamie were shoveling away the red dust that had piled up against the rover’s side. Jamie thought that the stuff was so light they could engage the electric motors and the wheels would churn right through it. But Connors insisted that they take no chances, or at least as few as possible. So the two of them dug, despite their weariness, despite the pain that shot through their arms and legs, despite the growing nausea that was surging through Jamie’s gut in hot sickening waves.

  The morning mist was almost entirely gone, merely a few wavering tendrils clinging to spots along the cliff wall where the sun did not reach. The cliffs themselves stood towering over them, immense rugged fortifications that blotted out half the sky and marched beyond the horizon both to their right and to their left.

  The orange streaks of the lichen stood out sharper than ever against the red rocks. Jamie wondered if the lichen colonies on the ground had some method of shaking off the dust that now covered the canyon floor to a depth of several inches. We won’t be here long enough to see, he knew. And we don’t have a remote TV camera to set up here and watch them for us, dammit.

  The dust billowed up as their shovels bit into it, rising in strangely soft, slow clouds that drifted dreamlike on the gentle wind wafting down the canyon. Jamie saw that Connors’s suit was covered with the rust-colored dust almost up to his armpits. He looked down and saw that his own blue suit was similarly splashed with rust.