And suddenly found himself on the canyon rim.
Swiftly, McGee crawled over the ledge and dragged himself and the limp colonel into a wind-sheltered nook created by several large rocks. He unloaded Townsend off his back like a sack of potatoes, then collapsed beside him. The wind howled around the rocks, but not within them, and without its help, the cold mercifully lost some of its punch. The Marsuit's electrical heaters began to gain ground, and within a few minutes the returning warmth allowed McGee to become functional again.
Scraping a few more threads of energy from his body, he turned to examine the colonel. Though uncommunicative, at least he was still breathing. McGee propped up his companion, and rubbed the man vigorously.
Gradually, Townsend came to. He blinked at McGee. "You shouldn't have done that."
Feeling his sore arm and aching body, McGee could only nod in agreement. "I know."
Townsend smiled. "But I'm sure glad you did."
The two men looked at each other, exchanging complete recognition.
"Thanks, McGee. You're a real super guy."
The colonel extended his hand, and McGee clasped it. "This may be a little late, but I'm glad to have you aboard, Professor."
Peering upward, McGee saw a star. The sky was clearing; the winds were letting up. "Colonel, can you walk? The rover's not far, but we have to get there."
"I think so."
He helped Townsend to his feet. Steadying each other, the two hobbled up the slope, painstakingly trudging the remaining two hundred meters to the rover. Ahead, a blue-white light shone near the horizon. It was Earth.
The historian's body had taken a terrible beating. But, despite all the aches and sprains and bruises, as he trudged through the Martian night with the computer card in his pack and Townsend by his side, McGee felt about as good as a man could feel.
OPHIR PLANUM
NOV. 1, 2012 17:20 MLT
When the rover arrived back at the Hab the next afternoon, Gwen was working outside. She ran after the vehicle, taking large steps in the low gravity, but McGee and Townsend did not slow the vehicle. They pulled up near the Beagle before she reached them.
Full of questions, Gwen followed the two men into the airlock. She could see immediately that they were both exhausted to the point of numbness. Townsend fumbled with the ladder, having difficulty moving for even such a simple task. Lending a hand, she wordlessly guided the commander inside and helped him to remove his helmet.
Followed closely by Luke, Rebecca came rushing down from the upper deck. "What happened?"
McGee pulled the computer card from his pack and unwrapped it for all to see. The faces of Luke and Rebecca lit up, but Gwen felt a mixture of emotions. She examined the computer card closely. "Does it check out green?"
"A-OK." Townsend started to take off his Marsuit, but stopped in mid-motion, grimacing from the pain.
"Colonel, you're hurt," Rebecca said, pushing forward.
"Nothing much. Just a broken arm."
Gingerly, the doctor zipped off his suit and with professional fingers probed around his arm. "Let me have a look at that in the lab."
McGee managed to get out of his Marsuit, in the process making his own injuries apparent. Gwen noticed his bruises, the haggard look on his face. "Hey, the professor's hurt too."
Taking a quick glance at McGee before she ushered Townsend out of the room, Rebecca rapidly sized up his condition. She reached over and tousled his hair.
"Oh, Kevin's okay," she said with a smile. "Come on, Colonel. That arm needs treatment, stat."
After Luke had helped the doctor escort Townsend into the lab, Gwen pulled some ice from the refrigerator, wrapped it in a cloth, and handed it to McGee.
"Here's some ice for those bruises, McGee," she said softly.
He took the ice and applied it to his bruised arm. "Thanks, Gwen."
McGee looked up and saw Gwen regarding him with deep concern, and he noticed that she had almost begun to cry. Their eyes met and she quickly looked away.
What can that mean? McGee wondered.
CHAPTER 25
NEW YORK CITY
NOV. 1, 2012 21:58 CST
THE HOUR WAS growing late at Madison Square Garden as the final presidential debate sponsored by the League of Women Voters neared its close. The night had not been a good one for the Administration. As he entered his summation, Senator Fairchild looked out over the vast audience with confidence.
"And to conclude," the opposition candidate thundered, "nothing proves the irresponsibility and ineptitude of the current Administration more than how they have seen fit to throw away the lives of five fine Americans on a grandiose but hopeless mission to Mars. When he launched the mission, the President knew there would not be funds for follow-on or resupply flights. He knew he was sending a crew out without the necessary backup... but he chose to do it anyway. And now, perhaps to create martyrs in the days before the election, he has sent the brave mission commander and a crew member on a suicide trek into the deepest canyon in the solar system."
The President paled visibly, but was forced to keep his response in check.
"My friends," Fairchild continued triumphantly, "I enjoy great national accomplishments as much as the next person, but we all must realize that our goals must be conditioned by our means. To foolishly expend the lives of five of our finest citizens in a desperate bid to revive the glory days of Apollo can only be characterized as an action so ill-conceived that..."
As these final nails were being driven into the coffin of the Administration's political hopes, Media Chief Sam Wexler slipped into the podium area from off-stage and handed the President a note. Fairchild continued to talk, focused on his own words, but the audience watched the subtle distraction, curious. The President's eyes went wide. He looked to his wife sitting in the front row of the audience, and something incandescent passed between them. The audience began to murmur.
Fairchild faltered for a moment, and the President picked up his microphone to interrupt his opponent. "Excuse me, but I have an important announcement. I have just received word from NASA that Colonel Andrew Townsend and Professor Kevin McGee have just returned from their heroic journey to the bottom of the Martian canyon. They have successfully retrieved the spare flight computer from the backup return vehicle. It works!" He raised his voice. "The crew is coming home!"
The audience broke into mad cheers.
The President grinned from ear to ear. He called to the crowd: "Do our boys have the right stuff or what!"
The cheering and applause became overwhelming.
"The crew is coming back," the President bellowed, "and let me say this, ladies and gentlemen, our America is coming back! We're back. Let the whole world see it. America is back!" He held up his hand, pointed forefinger above looped middle finger in the "Onward!" gesture that had come to symbolize the Martian mission. Keeping his victory sign in the air, the President waved joyously to the crowd. "God bless you, and God bless the United States of America."
Not missing a beat, the First Lady ran up on stage and gave the President a joyous hug, then turned to face the cheering crowd, joining her Onward sign to that of her husband. Seizing the moment, knowing no one would dare interrupt her, she began singing spontaneously: "Oh beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain..."
The President joined in, then more and more people added their voices to the chorus. As the patriotic reverie swept over the audience, Senator Fairchild stood in impotent rage at his podium. Peering down at the front row, Fairchild saw Science and Security Advisor Kowalski, who looked as if he'd just been shot. Then the full nature of the situation became apparent, and Fairchild's own expression involuntarily transformed to one of deep uneasiness, then terror.