The Martian Race

by Gregory Benford

  On Earth, evolution's crown went to the oxy users, the animals. They had grazed away the bacterial mats with their superior energy. But here the anaerobes ruled, and they'd evolved new forms.

  Hmmm. Maybe the best analogy was the marsupials of Australia—furry vertebrates, not true mammals. They breed more slowly than true placental animals, like rodents, and thus were eliminated all over the Earth except for the huge, isolated island of Australia. Free of superior competitors, they populated an entire continent, evolving completely unique forms such as kangaroos, wombats, and the duck-billed platypus.

  Was that what had happened on Mars? A planet that never evolved plants because it cooled off too quickly, so it never got an oxygen atmosphere to poison the original life-forms? Without the superior energetics of the oxy users to compete with, the anaerobes had slowly colonized, evolved, blossomed.

  She did some quick calculations and saw that the available volume of warm, cavern-laced rock below Mars was comparable to the inhabitable surface area of Earth. Plenty of room to try out fresh patterns.

  But would evolution have produced the same answer to the riddle of survival on Mars as on Earth? Something tickled the edge of her mind, but she couldn't quite get it.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement outside. The dune buggy with two suited figures was returning to the ERV. She sighed inwardly.

  They weren't any different here on Mars than they'd been on Earth. Competitive, unruly, passionate oxy users all. Driven. They were only a microcosm of the larger strifes and divisions on the home planet.

  34

  FEBRUARY 1, 2018

  “WELL, WELL, THIS IS VERY INTERESTING,” SAID MARC.

  He was doing a routine download from sensors they'd left at various sites, mostly for weather monitoring. Despite the chilly relations between the two men living in the ERV and Viktor and Julia in the hab, they all understood that routine maintenance had to continue. For almost two years, their lives had depended on well-functioning equipment. Raoul and Marc had come over earlier in the dune buggy, and Raoul quickly got to work checking the life-support system.

  “Um?” Julia looked up from her slate.

  “The Airbus rover is parked at the vent. So that's where they went.”

  “What? I don't follow.”

  “Raoul and I called on Airbus yesterday, only they weren't home. At least no one but Claudine. And she was real close-mouthed about where the other two were. Well, now we know.”

  “What are they doing there? Can you see the crew?”

  “Nope, just the rover, and a climbing rig. My guess is, they're inside.”

  She leaped to her feet. “That sonofabitch! I can't believe it! Last I talked to Chen, it was going to be a joint descent.”

  “How so?”

  “I was going to go with them, or rather, him. I figured a two-biologist trip was optimum.”

  “Boss know about this?”

  “Not yet. He knows I talked biology with Chen, showed him my results. And that I refused to trade the samples for a ride home. I'm sorry now I told Chen anything. If I'd known what he was gonna do …”

  “Well, he'd have found the vent with or without you.”

  “I didn't tell him where it was, or much about what the interior was like. I didn't do a travelogue. We talked biology.”

  “How'd he find it, then?”

  “Probably followed our tracks backwards. He knew we were coming from there when they landed. We can always ask.”

  “So he doesn't know what to expect?”

  “Not in any detail. I said it was slippery and dangerous, that Viktor'd been hurt there. I was still pissed off with the bastard, wanted to pick his brain on theory, not help him win the prize.”

  “Well, we're screwed now,” Marc said wanly. “There goes our last card.”

  In her Sydney newspaper there was a lurid spread on the “Mars flu.”

  “What?!” she cried. “Listen: ‘Julia Barth lies near death from an affliction caught from the Martian life she found—’ Where did they get this?”

  Viktor said, “No leaks, Axelrod said.”

  Raoul was doing his systems maintenance in the hab, so they had a meeting. “I told only my personal counselor,” he insisted.

  “So means there is leak from counselor,” Viktor said.

  “As we suspected before,” Marc said.

  “Damn!” Julia fumed. “We can't trust anybody now.”

  “Maybe is best, keep us on guard.”

  “It'll be a media firestorm Earthside,” Marc said.

  It was, and she soon sickened of reading even her “filtered” news summary. Axelrod came on soon, rueful at the leak. “A goddamned media tabloid paid Raoul's counselor a million for the story,” he said angrily. “Said he didn't want to stick around anyway, listening to Raoul die. The bastard!”

  “I wonder if Axelrod didn't know before?” Marc asked.

  Viktor asked, “You mean, is Axelrod getting copies of all our counselor sessions?”

  “Could be. Would explain some leaks,” Marc said.

  “We cannot know if he is,” Raoul said. “We just don't know what or who to trust anymore.”

  Axelrod's news did not make any difference to her. For each of them the whole nightmare of quarantine and panic suddenly became solidly real.

  They were all having a rather glum midafternoon tea when the comm console lit up with a flashing red light. The unexpected chimes startled Julia from her seat.

  Emergency message! But from who?

  Claudine's voice came across thin and tense in the sudden hush. “ ‘Ello hab, are you there? Something's wrong. Gerda and Chen are away from base in ze rover and zhey ‘ave missed their second check-in. Can you do anything?”

  Marc was closest to the console. “Where are they?” he asked blandly, knowing full well that the rover hadn't moved from the vent.

  “Zhey're at a big fissure about twenty kilometers north of here. It's the vent where Julia found the life-form. They went underground again this morning, and I ‘aven't ‘eard anything since.”

  “Again today? How long have they been out there?”

  “Since yesterday. They did a short descent in ze afternoon, then prepared to go deeper today.”

  “And check-in time was … ?”

  “Well, roughly midi, ah, middle of the day. They took extra air tanks down, but they are on their last ones by now. Maybe they're trapped in there.” Her voice rose before it pinched off.

  A brief silence. Conflicting emotions boiled up in Julia's mind in rapid succession: worry, fear, sympathy, rage, envy, satisfaction, then shame. Through the fog she heard Marc's soft drawl.

  “Ah, Claude, we're going to talk about this for a bit and get back to you.”

  “Oh, merde. Please, do not take too long. Zhey could die out there. It is not our fault, we did not make the rules for this trip …”

  “Yeah, well, we didn't either. And we're a long way from the vent.”

  Marc switched off. He swiveled in his couch and looked at the others quizzically. “Well?”

  “Serves them right!” exploded Julia. “I warned that little cocksure bastard that it was dangerous!”

  “How do you like that? They expect us to help them!” said Raoul grimly.

  “I wouldn't give them a sample, so they went to get their own,” said Julia. “They've paid the price of competitiveness.”

  “They got what they deserved,” agreed Marc.

  Viktor held up his hands. “First thing to do is find out if they need rescue,” he said mildly.

  Julia took a deep breath, let her anger drain off. Slow … easy … She shot a grateful smile at Viktor. “Right,” she said. “Any ideas?”

  “Try them again on radio, check sensors again.”

  “Oui, mon capitaine,” said Marc. He turned back to the console. “We don't even know what radio frequency they use, they were so determined to keep their plans so goddamn secret,” he said. “I'll use a broad-band sweep.”
>
  They all sat and waited, Julia's mind whirling.

  “Situation unchanged,” he reported after a long three minutes.

  “Maybe they're having cable problems,” said Julia. “It's easy enough to get tangled, in those clumsy suits.”

  “Maybe it's a phony distress call, to get us away from base while they steal our fuel,” said Raoul.

  “Why do they need it?” asked Marc.

  “True, race is over,” said Viktor.

  “Not quite,” growled Raoul. “What about Julia's samples in the greenhouse?”

  “But they're in the vent,” protested Marc “They can get their own.”

  “How do we know where they are?” Raoul shot back. “I wouldn't put anything past that arrogant squint.”

  Julia thought rapidly. After her accidents, Viktor would automatically object to her going back to the vent. But maybe this gave her the crack she needed. “Look, if the two of you stay here, Airbus can't pull a surprise visit if they're not at the vent. Then Marc and I can go see what the matter is.” She glanced at Raoul, added quickly. “Or if there is anything the matter.”

  Viktor frowned, but said nothing.

  “We owe them nothing,” said Raoul bitterly. “Still, the law of the desert says you don't leave someone stranded on the side of the road.”

  “They were eager enough to abandon us,” said Marc.

  “That's the difference between them and us,” said Raoul. “Where I was brought up, you didn't.”

  Marc considered for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, you're right. I don't see a lot of choices here. Okay, I'll go.”

  Julia was aware that Viktor was hanging back while the rest of the team came back together. Careful now … you re still on pretty thin ice. “Well, we can't just leave them out there.”

  Viktor looked unhappy. “I agree. I think we must go see. But you two are not to make another descent, understand? It will be dusk when you get there. Too late to set up safely.”

  “We won't take any chances,” Julia said.

  “We will monitor you on radio.” Viktor scowled at them both, one at a time. “Stay in touch. That is captain's order.”

  35

  FEBRUARY 1, 2018

  AS THEY REACHED THE VENT, PHOBOS ROSE IN THE RUBY WEST.

  It was a lump of white, about a third the size of the moon's disk, and if she had taken the time to watch she could have seen it crawl across the sprinkling of stars now poking through the gathering dark. She wondered whether she would ever have time to watch that happen again.

  The Airbus climbing rig looked first class. Chen and Gerda had worked from a single heavy-duty winch, which meant they'd alternated their descents and ascents.

  “I prefer one man, one winch,” said Julia.

  Marc shrugged. “I've heard of these, never seen one. Look over here. The differential transfers power from one cable to the other depending on which one is sending a signal. Same idea as the rear axle in a car, actually. Hmm. Saves mass, I guess. Now where is the test switch?”

  “You look while I check their internal radio.”

  From inside the Airbus rover, which took some trouble getting into, Julia tried to raise them on radio. Nothing. She came back out quickly, since she had taken her helmet off to go inside. After the greenhouse, she wasn't going to let it out of her sight again.

  “This motor is jammed, or burned out,” he reported over the comm. “I can't get a rise out of it.”

  They looked at each other grimly through their faceplates.

  “They could have just gotten tangled up,” she said hopefully.

  “Uh-uh,” Marc grunted. “More like they got trapped, tried to power out, and overloaded the motor.”

  “Well, there's nothing for it but to go down.”

  “Yep. Better tell base. Viktor'll scream bloody murder, but he can't stop us.”

  His prediction was exactly right. Viktor even shouted over comm, something she had never heard him do.

  “They knew what they were doing! We are not responsible to get them out. I sprain my leg there. If something happens to you—”

  “I'll be very careful.”

  “So was I!”

  “Look, Chen was a scientist—” She stopped, realizing she had used the past tense. “What if they found something really important down there? And are cut off?”

  “I do not like—”

  “We'll just go—”

  “It is night. Soon so cold you are not able to move joints in that suit, maybe.”

  “The vent gets warmer pretty fast.”

  “That is not enough to—”

  “This is an on-the-spot decision, Viktor. We're going in.”

  “I, I order you not to—”

  She switched off. Immediately she felt terrible about doing it, but she left it off.

  Marc had heard. They said nothing, just checked their harnesses, securing the yokes.

  “How about carrying oxy tanks this time?” Marc asked.

  “Theirs?” She nodded at the rack of bottles on the rear of the Airbus rover.

  “Ummm. I was thinking ours.”

  “Both, why not? Look at their rack—four gone. They took two extras, but by now they'll be low.”

  “That'll up the mass on our lines a lot. They're Mars-rated for one ton metric, so …” He calculated. “Okay, there's plenty margin. But they'll be pretty damn awkward.”

  They put two tanks apiece on their lines, double-clamping them five meters above the yokes. She did not like the idea of that much mass ready to fall on her, and checked the clamps three times.

  Backing down the slope, playing out their cables, Julia looked up into a bowl of sharp stars. Already her suit felt chilly. Her heater was ticking away, fighting the frigid plunge as the skimpy warmth bled out of the thin Martian atmosphere.

  The crew never operated outside at night, an absolutely solid rule. Mechanical parts stuck, valves jammed, suit power ran out fast. They had a power connection in the line to Red Rover's inboard nuclear power source, but they would have to stop to tap into it. She gritted her teeth and wondered if Viktor had been right.

  Sure he was. This is foolish.

  But another part of her knew that if she walked away from here without trying to find them she would answer for it the rest of her life. Not to others—to herself.

  She glanced over at Marc as they played out line. Something in his face told her that he was having the same thoughts. Had reached the same conclusion. And neither of them had needed to talk about it.

  They got the oxy tanks past the Y-frame that routed the lines. It was awkward getting the bottles set right. Then the two of them backed over the lip and negotiated the bottles into place above them.

  In their suit lamps she could see him concentrating on where his feet were, how his weight was displaced—the riveting attention trained into them by the years. After all the gut-churning tension of the last few days, it actually felt good to be doing something—clean, direct, muscles and mind.

  They went down gingerly, parallel to the Airbus monofilament cables. Marc said, “I wonder if that differential was built after seeing our plans?”

  She grimaced, puffing as the winch lowered them both into an inky well. “Why not? All's fair in a race.”

  “Look there,” he called.

  From below seeped a soft ivory glow. The darkness above them made the seeing different this time. A thin mist boiled up and cloaked the radiance in streamers of gossamer finery.

  “Careful not to touch the mat,” she said.

  “Marshroom, you mean.”

  “I certainly do not.”

  They moved down fast and the glow ripened. The Airbus cable plunged straight into inky nothing.

  They passed by the increasingly lush mat. Some phosphoresced in pale blue and ivory. Others seemed to have earlike fans to catch moisture. She had memorized parts of this, the pieces she had caught on video.

  “It all seems different,” Marc said. On comm she could hear him br
eathing steadily and deeply. Heavy work at the end of the day, not recommended …

  “No sunlight. The mats do seem brighter.”

  “Maybe something's stirred them up.”

  “It's misting pretty heavily.”

  “I was thinking maybe Chen and Gerda.”

  Down, as fast as the winches could go.

  In the torch beam they found the ledge where they had gone to the left.

  “That way led into the large horizontal cavern,” Marc said.

  The Airbus cables went to the right. “It looks steeper their way,” she said. The Airbus lines sagged into the turn, not taut, not bearing any weight. “Wonder what that means?”

  “The mist is getting heavier,” Marc said.

  “There's a wind.” She watched coils of speckled moisture rise past them.

  “Hope this vent isn't getting set to do something big.”

  “Unless the mat is giving off some vapor.”

  “Why would it?”

  “Transport of water from the interior. The top is always drying out, getting cold.”

  “You mean the system has circulation?”

  “Outflow, yes. I wonder if the mat somehow regulates it.”

  “Could it?”

  “Earth's whole atmosphere and climate is regulated by plants and animals.”

  “Sure …” He looked at the luminous mat gliding past as the winches carried them down. They were far enough out to keep the oxy tanks from smacking into the sides, but she knew some damage was inevitable.

  No chance for pristine intrusion. I'll catch hell for this with the Earthside biologists.

  At the edge of her vision she sensed something and stopped her winch. “Look, some mat is dead.”

  “Yeah. I don't remember doing anything like that when we came through here.”

  “Me either. Turn off your lamps.”

  They plunged into blackness.

  The glow gradually built up in their eyes. “Right, there's a lesion on the closest mat,” said Marc.

  She swung gently over, peered at it. The oxy tanks above were handy for this, providing a local pivot. “Probably they stopped here and their exhales did this.”

  “Pretty big patch.”