“Nice.” Seth nodded his approval. “You didn’t do it, though. Pity, because I’d like—”
“He’s awake,” Dana interrupted. “I don’t think he can move yet, but look at him. He’s listening.”
“That’s the way it’s supposed to be,” Art said. “There’s no pain when you wake up, but sensory systems respond before motor systems. He can probably hear us, but he can’t answer any questions.”
“How long?” Dana asked. She had her head cocked to one side. “How long before he can stand up and walk?”
“Half an hour, maybe three-quarters.”
She stood up. “That’s too long. We’re in trouble.”
“We got half the day still,” Seth said. “An’ the weather’s improvin’. We’re in good shape.”
She held up her hand. “Shh. And listen.”
Now Art could hear it, too; a growl of large vehicles driven in low gear, more than one and steadily becoming louder.
Seth was already by the staircase, peering downward. “Comin’ here,” he said. “Not that there was ever much doubt, this place is in the asshole of the state with nothin’ here but the syncope facility.”
He returned to the group, rapidly but silently. “There could be a whole bunch of ’em. They’re sure to have lights. If it’s Pearl Lazenby’s buddies, they got guns as well. The front door’s the only way out, an’ they’re comin’ in that way so we can’t use it, even if we could get down there. The front door’s busted, too, so anybody will know somebody’s here or been here. We can’t stick big boy back in his drawer an’ say we’re tourists, ’cause he’s wakin’ up.”
He glanced from Art to Dana. In the candlelight his eyes were like a snake’s, lively, flickering, and lighter than usual in their color. “We’re in trouble, amigos, like Dana says. Question is, what are we gonna do? We’ve come too far to give up now.”
23
Celine had been awake for more than twenty-four hours, and the week before that had been one long effort. Fatigue and the familiar-yet-strange air and gravity of Earth gave to everything a dreamlike halo. She stared at the red utility vehicles in the opened A-frame barn. She could hear running engines and see spouting black smoke behind the rear balloon tires.
Two of the trucks moved out of the building and came rolling toward them. One woman and one man sat in the front seat of each, apparently identical people dressed in identical tunics. They halted ten yards in front of Reza and Jenny, blocking progress toward the barn. One of the men descended.
Celine froze, and her dream mood vanished. The man in front of her was holding a light submachine gun, which he swung easily in an arc to cover the whole of her group. The woman in the other truck had a second weapon, raised and ready.
Celine became unnaturally alert. Who greeted strangers — unarmed strangers, who had made an obvious emergency landing — in such a fashion?
“You probably think that guns don’t work no more,” the man said in a Texas twang. “Well, folks, that sure don’t apply to this one. You wouldn’t like it one little bit if I have to demonstrate. In one minute, you’re going to tell me why you came here. First, though, I want you to explain how you could fly that danged thing.” He pointed his gun toward the Clark orbiter. “It’s recent make, an’ it sure has to be full of chips.”
“It is full of chips.” Celine disliked everything about the man. Belts of ammunition hung over his shoulders and around his chest. Two handguns sat in holsters at his waist. His smile was fixed, without a trace of humor, and he had the cold, unblinking gaze of Celine’s own abusive father.
“As you can see,” she went on, “we couldn’t fly the orbiter too well even with working chips. We were lucky to be able to make a landing at all. We need help.”
The man nodded slowly. His brow furrowed, as though he understood — or listened to — only a few of her words. “Now, lady, was your ship stored underground? So that the gamma pulse didn’t ruin it?”
“No. The chips in that orbiter were a long way from Earth when the pulse hit.” Celine gestured, to include Wilmer, Jenny, and Reza. She spoke slowly and carefully, seeing his finger tight on the trigger. “We were in deep space, returning to Earth from Mars. We landed at this location because we had no choice. We had to adapt an orbiter using our own equipment and programs, and this was the only landing site that we could reach.” She hesitated before the next words. “We are the only surviving members of the first Mars expedition.”
It was a bad moment. Nowhere near as awful as watching Zoe and the others immolated on their attempt at reentry, but piercing and heartbreaking in its own way. Talking about the expedition made the contrast more striking. A couple of weeks ago they had done it all, they had won it all. The crew was returning intact and healthy, coming home to certain honor and glory and acclamation.
Now they stood, the lonely four who had lived, cold and exhausted in this snow-covered valley, facing a hostile man who showed no shred of interest or excitement at meeting the first people ever to walk the surface of the red planet. So far as he was concerned, they were just intruders. At her words he had raised his gun and was pointing it at her chest.
“You are defilers of Heaven.” He was broad-chested and tall, topping even Wilmer by a few centimeters. The left side of his chest and the cuffs of his long-sleeved gray tunic bore an unfamiliar emblem, a bird’s scarlet talons enclosing a green globe. “If your fate lay in my hands, it would lead you straight to hell. Into the vehicles. And giddyup!”
Celine was afraid, for Wilmer and Reza more than for her and Jenny. They were all used to taking orders — but not from strangers. Jenny would be cautious. Unless Celine acted at once, though, either Reza or Wilmer was likely to balk. Given Reza’s unpredictable mood for the past few days, he might do absolutely anything.
“Come on,” she said, and moved quickly forward to climb the step into the backseat of one of the trucks. She sensed rather than heard the stir of rebellion on her right, and patted the seat. “That includes you, Wilmer. This is no time for heroics.”
Her companions hesitated, looking from the man to the woman with the gun in the other truck. To her relief they moved forward without arguing. Wilmer settled himself on one side of Celine, placing his little backpack on the seat next to him. The man with the gun took the seat on the other side. “Smart move, lady,” he said gruffly. “If you got troubles, you sure brung ’em on yourselves. Didn’t you know your actions defiled God’s domain? As for your arrival here, that was foreordained.”
Reza and Jenny had gone to sit in the other vehicle. Celine decided that they would have to fend for themselves — perhaps not too difficult, since no one but the man with the machine gun had so far said a word. She turned to face him, and found that his gun was still pointing at her chest.
“You must know who we are,” she said. “I’m sure that for months before Supernova Alpha, the media were full of news about the Mars expedition. I’m Celine Tanaka, and I was in charge of instrumentation. But who are you, and what is this group? Why do you say that our arrival was foreordained?”