The Season of Passage

by Christopher Pike

  She could hear someone calling her name from far away. It didn't sound like anyone she knew. It was probably a policeman. Over here, officer. She remembered being in a terrible accident. I'm in the bushes, officer. She remembered blood, everywhere. She opened her eyes and winced as a bright light stung them.

  'Please help me, sir,' she whispered.

  'It's Jim, Lauren.' He knelt by her side. 'Everything's all right. You killed him.'

  Lauren sat up slowly. One glance at the pond was more than enough to bring back the attack. She felt sick to her stomach.

  Would someone please close his eyes.

  'He won't be bothering us anymore,' Jim said.

  She looked away. "That's for damn sure.'

  'Are you hurt? Is your suit damaged?'

  'I'm fine.' Jim helped her to her feet, and her left knee reminded her that she was not perfectly fine. The joint felt like burning mush. 'Where's Jessie?' she asked.

  'I left her where she fell. I couldn't raise you on the radio,

  and you were taking so long to reach us. Then I heard an explosion and raced here.' He hugged her. 'I don't think I've ever been so glad to see someone in my entire life. I take it Ivan attacked you?'

  'Yes.' She shivered. 'But let's talk about it later. Let's get Jessie. I hate the thought of her lying out there all alone. Even with Ivan dead.'

  'I know what you mean,' he said.

  Jim carried her laser, and offered his arm for support. Jessica was half a mile away, and Lauren limped the whole way. The terrain continued to climb, and the number of ponds and pits only increased. Jim thought the hills had been created by recent volcanic activity. He called them an afterthought.

  Jessica was not alone in the crevice when they reached her. Her husband knelt by her side. He stood quickly at their approach.

  'Bill!' Lauren exclaimed.

  'Man, are you OK?' Jim cried.

  They climbed into the wide crack in the ground. Their commander greeted them quickly and efficiently, as though nothing extraordinary had happened - the same old Bill. Of course, he was concerned about his wife. He wanted to know what had happened to her. While Jim explained the situation, including Ivan's attack, Lauren gave Jessica a brief examination. She said she wasn't bleeding and nothing appeared to be broken. However, she had an ugly bruise on her forehead and her breathing was not normal; it was definitely slow and shallow. Lauren feared she had suffered a serious concussion, and was now slipping into a coma. Lauren told Bill the bad news and he took his wife's hand and placed his left palm on the top of her helmet. Almost immediately Jessica's eyes opened.

  So much for my diagnosis.

  'Don't touch me,' Jessica whispered.

  'Jessie,' Lauren said loudly. 'It's us. Stay awake. Bill's here.'

  A slow smile filled Jessica's face. 'You got away, William.'

  Bill helped her up and Jessica hugged him. The enemy was dead, and her friends were alive. Lauren began to relax. They had been lucky, she thought, very lucky.

  Bill related his story. As they had surmised, Ivan had surprised him from behind and pushed him in the water. The water didn't harm his suit, but when he climbed back on the shore and tried to shoot Ivan, his laser was dead. The liquid must have got into the electronics. Ivan wasn't through. He attacked Bill again, and he was fierce, and remarkably strong. He tried to rip off Bill's oxygen tanks, and Bill was barely able to escape in one piece. But he had nowhere to flee except inland. It was his hope to lure Ivan away from Hummingbird, and then circle around and leave in the hovercraft. Unfortunately, without visible landmarks, he got lost in the dark. He had been wandering around for what seemed an eternity when he chanced upon Jessica.

  'But one good thing has come from this,' Bill said. 'While I was lost, I stumbled upon a volcanic cavern. It's beneath a hill close to the center of the island. A narrow cave leads down into a huge room filled with bubbling lava pits. There's a dig in there - it's obvious the Russians were working on it. You must visit this place, Professor. All of you must go there. It's a fascinating place.'

  'Shouldn't we just return home?' Jim asked. 'Our water supply is almost gone.'

  'Not yet,' Bill said. 'We have a job to do. Billions have been spent on this mission. We can survive another day or two. For now we will return to the Hawk, and Lauren will

  examine Jessica more carefully. We will rest. But tomorrow I want to explore further.' Bill paused. 'We still have to find out what happened to the Russians.'

  TWENTY-TWO

  Professor James Ranoth awoke from an uneasy doze, feeling dry and troubled. He checked his watch and sighed. It was late afternoon on the day after the day they had set out to examine the Karamazov. He had been in bed for three hours, but he couldn't have slept more than twenty minutes. Insomnia had been his lifelong companion, but unlike most people, he always enjoyed the hour or two before sleep came; he used the time to think long and deep, or just to daydream. But what plagued his mind now, and refused to let him rest, was far from pleasant. He felt dread, pure and simple. He had felt it since the first night they spent on Mars. Only now it was much worse.

  Jim sat up. Gary slept peacefully in bed on the other side of the room, but Bill was missing. Lauren had ordered the entire crew to rest for a minimum of six hours, when they had finally returned from their adventures beneath the surface. To simply ignore Lauren's order, Bill couldn't have been that tired, or else he had felt there was something that needed his immediate attention.

  Jim stood and went into the empty living area. It was then he noticed the odd odor. It smelled unlike anything he had encountered before, sort of a cross between spoiled eggs and drying blood. He reminded himself that their

  recycling systems were damaged, but the reminder did nothing to soothe his nerves. At the same time he wondered whether he was really smelling anything at all, whether it wasn't just in his mind. In either case whether inside his nostrils or inside his head, the smell was repulsive.

  Jim decided to check on the women. He opened their door quietly. Jessica lay on her side without a cover, her mouth wide open and snoring. Lauren was flat on her back, her pretty features at peace. She, also, was uncovered, and Jim had a fatherly urge to tuck the sheet around her. He had never understood why he loved her so much, but he knew that his love was the one thing he didn't need to understand. She was special to him, it was that simple. What was more complex was how he was going to keep her safe. The possibility that she might not return home was unbearable to him.

  Jim was on the verge of leaving when Lauren's forehead suddenly creased. She was having a nightmare, he thought, and he considered waking her. But if she regained consciousness now, he knew she would probably remember the nightmare, and for no reason that fact disturbed him. He continued to watch her. She raised and moved her arms above her chest as if she were trying to push something away. Her breathing became rough, and her exposed flesh was suddenly covered with gooseflesh. Finally, however, she relaxed, and her arms dropped to her sides. Jim closed the door.

  He was climbing the ladder that led to the control room when the pain started in his chest. It was like a heavy weight on top of his ribcage. The pain spread quickly across his shoulders and down into his arms. He closed his eyes and took slow deep breaths. He didn't need Lauren to tell him it

  was his heart. The long sleep had been unkind to him. Since awakening from hibernation, he'd had trouble catching his breath. He knew Lauren suspected he had a problem, but he had fooled her the last time she had examined him aboard the Nova, just prior to the Gorbachev rendezvous. He had tampered with her medical computer, and made it register the same EKG tracing as the person who had been examined before him, which just happened to be Gary. He'd done this so he wouldn't be disqualified from the second landing. He wanted to be with his friends when they learned the fate of the Russians. He believed then, as he did now, that they would need his help.

  The pain eased. Feeling small and inadequate, Jim climbed the remainder of the ladder into the control ro
om. Bill sat before Friend's main program console. The sky outside the windows was a dull pink and filled with clouds.

  'Can't sleep, either?' Bill asked, without looking up.

  'I never sleep that much as it is,' Jim said. 'Have you been talking with Mark, or is this his rest period, too? The last couple of days have got me confused.'

  'I can't raise him,' Bill said.

  Jim's heart skipped. 'Are the communications out again?'

  'Yes'

  Jim crossed to the computer board. 'When did this happen?' he asked. He checked the Hawk's electrical power supply.

  'An hour ago.'

  'Why didn't you wake me?' Jim asked.

  'You looked exhausted. I wanted you to rest.'

  'It must be the generators again. Have you cross-checked the A and C coils?'

  'Yes,' Bill said. "They appear in good shape.'

  'What does Friend say?' Jim asked.

  'Ask him.'

  'Friend, we have a malfunction in our communication systems. What is the cause?'

  [I am unable to diagnose the difficulty.]

  'Why not?' Jim asked.

  [Because of damage to my own systems that I sustained during the landing.]

  It struck Jim as odd Friend hadn't mentioned such specific damage before. He spoke to Bill. 'I want to check the generators directly. They're powered by our rocket fuel. We could have a serious pump malfunction.'

  Bill looked at him for the first time. 'Why don't you have a seat, Jim, and relax.'

  'OK.' Jim sat in a swivel chair opposite his commander. 'It has to be the generators. They caused the interruption the first time.'

  'I've inspected the generators. I told you they're fine.'

  'You may have missed something,' Jim said.

  'I doubt it.'

  Jim leaned back in his chair, feeling strangely trapped. 'What is your opinion then, sir, as to the source of our problem?'

  Bill was unconcerned. 'It could be a million things. We can always get home without communications.'

  'Are you suggesting we leave now?'

  'No,' Bill said.

  'But you don't want to explore that island tomorrow, do you? In light of this problem?'

  'But I do. With the limited time available to us, exploration must be our first priority.'

  'What did you see down there, Bill, that was so fascinating?'

  His commander brightened. 'Inside the hill I spoke of is a cavern with strangely symmetrical dimensions. The place is lit by glowing pools of lava.' His tone became confidential. 'I'm not an archaeologist or a geologist like you, Professor, but I think there's evidence of an incredibly ancient civilization in that place.'

  Jim tried to check his rising excitement, for he sensed danger. 'What evidence did you see?' he asked.

  'Nothing specific. But the Russians were digging in a particular area. I feel certain you'll discover something there.'

  The answer was ridiculously vague. Jim's feelings of trouble deepened. 'You want us all to go to this place?' he asked.

  Bill rotated his chair until he was facing the ever-present mass of Olympus Mons. The caldera was lost in pink clouds. The cave into the depths was a faint black mark on the mountain's rock walls.

  'Even though we're in a hurry, we have to be careful,' Bill said. 'For that reason, I will explore the volcanic room, and will take only one companion with me per visit. Because of your expertise, you will be the first to come with me. But if time permits, everyone will be given an opportunity.'

  'That sounds reasonable,' Jim said, barely hiding the sarcasm in his voice. He had finally realized what had been tugging at the back of his mind since he asked Friend about their failed communications. The computer had answered him, but had not addressed him by his first name, which it invariably did when responding to a person's initial question. Was the change in protocol another by product of Friend's internal damage? Or was sabotage the answer? -

  Jim came to a decision. He would tell Lauren and Gary

  of his fears in the event he died tomorrow in Bill's fascinating cavern.

  'Bill,' he said, 'I've been thinking of taking Hummingbird to where the other Russian lander once stood, and examining the area.'

  'Not tomorrow. We'll be busy tomorrow.'

  'I was thinking of going now,' Jim said.

  'That should be OK. If you feel up to it.'

  'I would like to take Lauren and Gary with me,' Jim added.

  'Fine.'

  'Do you have any idea what we will find there?'

  Bill shrugged. 'A hole in the ground.'

  'Yes. And we know what caused that hole.'

  Bill nodded. 'I'm sure we're entertaining the same theory.'

  'Dmitri Maximov was responsible.' Jim let the sentence trail, hoping Bill would pick it up, and tell him something new. But it was a futile attempt.

  'That worries you, I know. It worries me, too.' Bill turned his attention back to Friend's console. 'Tell me what you find. Don't be gone too long.'

  Jim stood. 'I'm taking one of the lasers. I might stop at the Karamazov on the way back.'

  'Fine. We can't be too careful.'

  Jim started down the ladder. When his head was at floor level he stopped and said, 'I was relieved to hear Lauren say that Jessie's blow to the head wasn't serious.'

  'So was I.'

  Jim had to ask. 'Will she be accompanying us to the underground cavern?'

  Bill was taken by surprise. 'What did you say?'

  'Jessie. I was wondering if you wanted her to go back down there?'

  'Jessie,' Bill whispered. His shoulders sagged, and as they did so, his aura of confidence and strength faltered. The transformation was as startling as it was sudden. Jim took a step back up the ladder.

  'Bill?' he asked.

  'She's been a great woman,' he said softly. 'I remember the day I met her. It seems like only yesterday. I was at the campus library, studying for a test. She sat across from me at the table and smiled. She said, "Hey, don't I know you?"' Bill stopped and massaged his temples, as if he were getting a headache. He shuddered.' "Don't I know you."'

  Jim began to relax. 'We'll keep her away from that place.'

  But Jim's relaxation did not last. The mirrors in the carnival funhouse always had two sides. Bill abruptly turned his back on Jim and repeated stiffly, 'If time permits, everyone will be given an opportunity to go down there.'

  It seems like only yesterday.

  Jim knew the feeling. 'We'll be back before it gets dark,' he said. He left the control room.

  They floated in Hummingbird above a huge snow-veiled crater.

  'Looks like a meteor hit here,' Lauren said. 'Are you sure this is the place?'

  'There's no doubt in my mind, Doc,' Gary said. 'The lander was sitting at the edge of this cliff. Right, Jim?'

  'Yes, this is the spot,' Jim said. 'But take us down, Gary. It's making me dizzy floating above this crater. Land on the east side. We can enjoy the scenery, and watch the sun go down. There are a few things I want to discuss.'

  'Out here?' Gary asked. 'Don't you just want to photograph the area and head back? We could talk more

  comfortably in the Hawk. I'm still exhausted.'

  Lauren yawned. 'Me, too. I've got a splitting headache. I keep wanting to melt some of this snow and have a nice long drink. I wish it wasn't just frozen carbon dioxide.'

  'We have to talk,' Jim said. 'About this hole, and other things. Please?'

  'Well, sure, Jim,' Gary said. 'You know what made this crater?'

  'I think so,' Jim said. 'But take us down first. There's a story I want to tell you both.'

  A few minutes later, they sat on three separate red boulders, their backs to Olympus Mons, the evening sun shining pleasantly in their faces. Harsh beauty spread out beneath their feet. A mile-deep chasm sliced the side of the mountain, interrupting an otherwise smooth fifty-mile plunge to the Martian plains. It revealed a geologist's treasure map of changing ages, and had Jim been relaxed, he would have spe
nt hours studying it. But he worried that another age might come to an end if they returned home to Earth the way things were. The age of Man.

  'I wish Jenny was here,' Lauren said. 'She always loved beautiful landscapes. Whenever we drove somewhere new and pretty, she would sit by the window, entranced.'

  'You miss her a lot?' Jim asked.

  'Yeah, I sure do,' Lauren said. 'I miss her more than the Earth itself. But I also feel she's always with me. Terry told me she wanted to stay at the forest by his cabin, because that's the place I love best. Jenny said that I would think of there when I got homesick, and that's been happening. I see her in the woods in my mind, walking in the trees with the sun shining in her long hair.' Lauren paused and frowned. 'But that can't be. It's snowing in Wyoming right now. I'm glad she's there, though. But I would like to hear her voice. Even if only on a tape.'

  Jim thought of their severed communications. 'Has Jenny ever spoken to Terry about the ring I gave her?' he asked.

  'Yes,' Lauren said. 'She told him to tell you she wears it always.'

  Anything else?' Jim asked.

  'Not that I know of,' Lauren said. 'Why? I always meant to ask you about that ring.'

  'I always meant to tell you about it,' Jim said. 'In fact, the story I referred to is about that ring. It's a rather long tale, but we have time. Would you two like to hear it?'

  Gary and Lauren were agreeable. Jim closed his eyes for a moment and let the delightful memory wash clean his mind.

  'At the beginning of last June, I took a ten-day leave from our training schedule and traveled to India,' he said. 'Like all of us at the time, I was very excited about going to Mars, but the work was seemingly endless, and I wanted to get away. I'm not sure why I chose India. I've always been fascinated by the country, and I've been there several times, of course, but only in the south. In India, though, wherever you are, the Hindus speak of the Himalayas in the north with superstitious awe. I'd heard so many stories about the great yogis who lived there, who could read minds and levitate, that I figured I just had to have a look.

  'I flew into Delhi. The first night I stayed with an old friend of mine - Peter Davidson. He's originally from California, but he had married an Indian woman, and had long been living in her country. He has two sons, Panda and George. I told Peter of my desire to visit the Himalayas, and he was enthusiastic. Unfortunately, he couldn't get away from his classes. He teaches astronomy at the University of Delhi. But Panda and George - one's twenty, the other's nineteen - were out of school. They said they'd