AFTERNOON: SOL 59
“NOT AS BAD AS IT COULD’VE BEEN,” CRAIG PRONOUNCED, but his voice sounded heavy, unhappy, in Dex’s earphones.
The sky was still gray, sullen. The wind was still keening, although nowhere near as loud as it had been. Dex was surprised that inside the hard suit he felt no push from the wind at all. He had expected to have to lean over hard and force himself forward, like a man struggling through a gale. Instead, the thin Martian air might just as well have been totally calm.
On one side the rover was half buried in rust-red sand. From the nose of the cockpit to the tail of the jointed vehicle’s third segment, the sand had piled up as high as the roof on the windward side.
“Good thing the hatch was on the leeward side,” Dex said. “We might’ve had trouble getting it open if it was buried in this stuff.”
“Naw, I don’t think so,” Craig answered, kicking at the pile. Dust flew like ashes, or like dry autumn leaves when a child scuffs at them.
“Maybe.”
“Besides,” Craig added, “I turned her so the hatch’d be on the sheltered side when we stopped for the night.”
Dex blinked inside his helmet, trying to remember if he was driving then or Craig. Wiley’s not above taking credit for good luck, he thought.
“Come on, let’s see what’s happened topside.”
As they trudged around the rover, back to the side that was almost free of the dust, Dex could see that at least part of the makeshift coverings they had taped down over the solar panels had been blown loose. One sheet was flapping fitfully in the wind.
As Craig climbed up the ladder next to the airlock hatch to inspect the solar panels, Dex caught sight of the most beautiful apparition he had seen on Mars: the dull gray dust-laden clouds thinned enough, for a few moments, for him to see the bright orange sky overhead. His heart leaped inside him. The storm’s breaking up! It’s breaking up at last.
“Worse than I hoped for,” Craig’s voice grated in his earphones, “but better’n I was scared of.”
Craig came down from the ladder. “We got some scratches and pittin’ up there where the tarp came loose. The rest of the panels look okay, though.”
“Good,” said Dex, suddenly enthusiastic. “Listen, Wiley, I’m going to duck back inside and put on the VR rig. Nobody’s ever recorded a Martian dust storm before. This’ll make great viewing back home!”
He heard Craig chuckling inside his helmet. Then the older man said, “Startin’ to get some of your spirit back on-line, huh?”
“I …” Dex stopped, perplexed for a moment. Then he put a gloved hand on the shoulder of Craig’s suit. “Wiley, you really helped me. I was scared shitless back there, and you pulled me through it.”
“You did it for yourself,” Craig said, “but I’ll be glad to take the credit for it.”
Dex felt his insides go hollow.
As if he sensed it, Craig said, “Don’t worry, son. What happened here is between you and me, nobody else.”
“Thanks, Wiley.” The words sounded pitifully weak to Dex, compared to the enormous rush of gratitude and respect that he felt.
“Okay,” Craig said gruffly. “Now before you start doin’ your VR stuff, let’s get the antennas cleaned off so we can tell Jamie and the gang that we’re okay.”
Rodriguez gave a sudden whoop from the comm center.
“Wiley’s calling in!”
Jamie bolted up from the galley table while Vijay stayed to help the limping Fuchida. In the comm center Jamie saw Craig’s scruffy-bearded face on the main screen.
“… solar panel output’s degraded by four-five percent,” Craig was reporting. “Coulda been a lot worse.”
“What about the fuel cells?” Rodriguez asked.
“Dex’s electrolyzing our extra water; gonna feed the hydrogen and oxy to ’em. That way we can rest the batteries.”
Poking his head into the comm camera’s view, Jamie asked, “Do you have to dig yourselves out?”
Craig looked very pleased. “Nope. The wheels and drive motors are all okay. We just put ’er in gear and pulled ourselves loose. We’re movin’ now.”
“Wow!” Rodriguez exclaimed.
“That’s great,” said Jamie, feeling genuinely pleased and relieved. “That’s just great, Wiley.”
“Oughtta be at Ares Vallis in another three-four days,” Craig said. Then he added, “If the weather holds up.”
Rodriguez laughed. “There’s not another storm in sight.”
“Good.”
When Craig signed off, Rodriguez began checking the telemetry from the rover and Jamie went back to the inventory list. The wind was still yowling outside like dead spirits begging to come in out of the cold.
The wind was appreciably softer and sunlight actually lanced below the overhanging clouds as the day drew to a close.
Jamie was tired, physically and emotionally drained, as he made his way back to the comm center for what must have been the hundredth time that day.
As the storm wound down, he had spent most of the day in the greenhouse dome, checking and rechecking the area that had been damaged. He had even suited up and gone outside to inspect the damaged areas without the emergency patches and epoxy covering them. It was hard to say, but the areas seemed to have been punctured, not torn. Of course, once punctured the plastic fabric began to rip along the seam where it connected to the foundation of the dome.
What we need here is a forensic structural engineer, Jamie told himself. If there is such a person. Maybe Wiley could make some sense of it.
He took dozens of photographs of the damaged areas and transmitted them back to Tarawa for their analysis. There was nothing more he could think to do, but he kept feeling that he was missing something. Something important.
What is it, Grandfather? he asked silently. What have I overlooked?
Once in the comm center he slumped down on the little chair and put through another message to Tarawa.
“Pete: The greenhouse dome looks okay now, but I’m worried about what might happen in the next storm. Maybe that won’t be for another year, but it’s a problem we ought to think about now, not when the dust starts blowing again. It’s obvious that we overlooked this problem, but with twenty-twenty hindsight I think we ought to pay attention to it.
“Can you get the world’s assembled experts to figure out how we can protect the greenhouse dome with the materials we have on hand? That includes native Martian materials, of course. What I’m wondering is, can we make glass bricks out of the Martian sand? Build an igloo that’s transparent? Look into it for me, will you?”
The wind died down almost completely after sunset. Jamie was tempted to put on a suit and go out to see if the stars were still in their places, but he felt too tired. The outside cameras showed that the planes were still there, although what condition their solar panels might be in would have to wait for a closer inspection.
The dome was quiet, back to normal, when Jamie finally went to his quarters. Vijay was already there, in the bunk. He blinked with surprise.
“Tomas is bunking with Trudy,” she said, matter-of-factly.
Nodding, Jamie muttered, “I wonder if Mitsuo and Stacy are going to get it on?”
Vijay giggled softly. “Not bloody likely.”
“Why not?”
“Stacy’s gay.”
Jamie’s eyes popped open. “What?”
“Stacy’s a lesbian.”
There’s nothing wrong with that, Jamie told himself. Still, he felt shocked.
“Poor Mitsuo,” he heard himself whisper as he got under the covers beside her.
Vijay moved over to make room for him on the narrow bunk. “I don’t know about him. He hasn’t come on to any of the women.”
“Maybe he’s gay, too?”
“I doubt it. I think he’s just got more self-control than you Western ape-men.”
Jamie wanted to debate the point, but instead he closed his eyes and fell instantly asleep.