"Okay, Doctor," Townsend said, his voice flat and deliberately neutral. "Let's see what you've found."
The whole crew watched as the TV showed the images, with a recording of the doctor's voice providing narration. "This is sample 12/16/11-9, series G, number 41, imaged optically under soft ultraviolet light at three hundred times magnification, with enhanced simulated color restoration. No biological structure is in evidence." Rebecca's recorded voice sounded ever more exhausted as the video proceeded. "This is the same sample imaged at one thousand times magnification. No biological structure is in evidence. I have now increased magnification to three thousand power. Again no biological structure is in evidence, however there is some indication of crystalline regularity to the substratum."
The video showed hints of tiny hexagonal patterns of shading within the blue-green background. Looks like blue honeycomb, Townsend thought.
"That's an inorganic mineralogical microstructure typical of cuprous silicates," Luke commented. "They're turquoise in color, too."
"But those shapes in the upper left of the screen seem rather odd." McGee offered.
Luke chuckled. "Those are fracture patterns, just like the ones that fooled people into thinking they were seeing fossils in Martian meteorites back in the 1990's. What you are looking at, Professor, is just a good old-fashioned rock."
Was that all it was? Townsend turned to Rebecca for her answer. The biologist said nothing. Instead, she just shook her head and stared tiredly at the table. Was that the look of defeat?
"This is the sample at eight thousand times magnification," her voice continued on the video. The TV image enlarged. Inside the hexagons, the liquid swirled.
It was apparent even to Townsend with his rudimentary background in biology that the motion was cytoplasmic in character. He turned to stare at Rebecca.
The doctor looked up from the table and spoke in a tired monotone with no hint of triumph, only certainty and completion. "It's alive."
Alive! The whole crew was speechless. Townsend turned to Luke, Gwen, McGee; all were transfixed watching the incredible swirling image on the screen. For a minute he, too, stared in fascination; then he looked back at Rebecca to congratulate her.
But the biologist was fast asleep in her chair and had begun to snore.
CHAPTER 9
OPHIR PLANUM
DEC. 18, 2011 16:10 MLT
BY LATE AFTERNOON of the next day the atmosphere in the Hab was relaxed, even happy. Sunlight streamed through the windows, and the door between the galley and the lab was open.
McGee looked up from his volume of The Complete Shakespeare and peered into the lab where Haydn's Creation was playing. While she bustled about taking measurements, peering through microscopes, and typing at lightning speed on her computer, Rebecca sang along with her prep school–trained classical voice. He thought she sang like an angel.
The biologist danced out of the lab and snatched a muffin off the galley table, flashed him a smile, then flitted back to her work. The smile made him feel warm inside.
The rest of the crew sat around the table eating, but apparently hadn't noticed. Townsend and Gwen were poring over maps while they ate, and Luke was examining some rocks with a magnifying glass.
"Now that is what you call one happy camper," McGee commented.
Townsend put his map aside. "I'll say. Well, I've delayed communication of the discovery long enough for her to get her ducks in a row. I think it's about time for a data dump." The colonel called out in the direction of the lab. "Excuse me. Excuse me! In the lab there."
Rebecca stuck her head out the door. "Yes?"
"If Miss Lily Pons would care to suspend her concert for a moment, the rest of the crew would be pleased to receive a briefing."
Lily Pons? Rebecca thought. Hardly a current star of the opera stage. She wondered how Townsend had even heard of her. Lily Pons had achieved popular fame singing the "Marseillaise" for the Free French during World War II. Oh, that explains it. She switched off the music and swept into the galley.
"Okay, here's the scoop. As I said yesterday, it's life." She smiled. "But it is not life exactly as we know it on Earth. Pre-cellular life, of course, more primitive than the living fossil blue-green algae back home. It has DNA and proteins, to be sure, and most of the amino acids and sugars are identical to those of terrestrial organisms, but I've found a few slightly different amino acids in the proteins. One of the four nucleotides in the DNA has a hydroxyl radical where DNA nucleotides on Earth just have a hydrogen ion. The DNA is organized into genes, which are dispersed in a redundant manner throughout the cell, rather than being centralized in well-ordered chromosomes. It's a simpler and less efficient arrangement than we see in terrestrial life, but much more robust against radiation damage during long periods of dormancy. There are also some novel proteins that act as a kind of antifreeze, greatly lowering the freezing point of the cytoplasm. It's a close cousin to terrestrial life, but not flesh of our flesh."
Gwen looked at her perplexed. "‘Not flesh of our flesh?' "
Townsend seemed equally puzzled. "But it's still fundamentally the same kind of thing as we might find on Earth?"
"Similar, but not the same. Actually, the basic chemistry is so similar that there may be a common ancestor."
"Or it could be that both were created by the same God," Gwen suggested.
Rebecca looked at the flight engineer. Gwen, how can you believe such things? You're on Mars. Modern science has put you here. Why do you insist on rank superstition? However, being in a good mood, she decided to be diplomatic. "That theory I'll leave for you to publish in your own article. All speculations aside, from the evidence here I'd bet the farm on two independent origins. You know, I'll probably get a special issue of Scientific American, with a foldout of me holding an ultracentrifuge tube up to the light and saying ‘Eureka.'"
McGee tapped his camera. "I've already taken the shot."
"I'll bet you have, and I'll bet I looked a mess." She wrinkled her nose.
Townsend looked around the room, then out the window; sunset was upon them. "Well, I'd say that this is cause for a celebration. Two major discoveries in the same week."
"Right," Luke chimed in, as if wrestling with his pride. "Rebecca, I'm sorry I doubted you. I'll be eating some NASA prepackaged crow from the ship's stores." He pulled a bottle of champagne from under the table and began unwrapping the foil around its neck. "But if you'll forgive me, perhaps you'll do us all the honor?"
"Luke, I feel so good today I could forgive Hitler. Apology accepted."
She took the bottle from the geologist and pushed hard on the cork with her thumbs. The cork popped off and the champagne foamed hugely in the 5 psi cabin air as everyone cheered. Merrily, she poured out glasses for her crewmates.
Townsend held up his glass to make a toast. "To a successful mission and a safe voyage home."
"Hear, hear!" Gwen cheered.
Luke eyed the vigorous bubbling in his glass. "To some good drink for a change."
"To the Discoverers!" McGee said, saluting her with his drink.
Rebecca held up her glass and looked at it speculatively. What to say at a moment like this? Suddenly she remembered her grandfather's favorite toast. How appropriate. Thanks, Grandpapa. "To Life!" she shouted, and with a single dramatic motion tossed down the drink and hurled the empty glass to the galley floor.