“By their fruits you shall know them,” Overmire murmured.
Trying to contain his temper, Delgado said, “Madam President, you’ve got to see the whole picture here. We’re dealing with the difference between science and misplaced religious faith.”
“Misplaced?” Overmire looked shocked.
“We’re dealing,” Delgado went on, his voice rising, “with the struggle between free scientific inquiry and dogmatic dictates from people who cherish ignorance over understanding. It’s bad enough that we’ve stopped supporting the exploration of Mars, and we’ve got congressional committees investigating that priest’s death. Now you’re talking about preventing the Department of Education from helping school children learn about the cutting edge of scientific exploration!”
“I resent your attitude,” said the archbishop.
The president agreed. “You could notch it down a bit, Dr. Delgado. An apology wouldn’t be out of order.”
“Apologize? For the truth? I’d sooner resign!”
With a shrug, the president said, “If that’s the way you feel, I’ll expect your resignation on my desk before the end of the day.”
Overmire’s smile turned smug. And Delgado finally understood why he’d been invited to the Oval Office.
Tithonium Base: Resupply Flight 082
For the five days of the fusion torch ship’s flight to Mars Dex felt a growing apprehension about seeing Jamie again. He’ll try to talk me into keeping the operation going, Dex told himself. He’s got this cockamamie scheme for keeping fifteen people at the base and depending on Selene for supplies. He’ll never agree to shutting down the operation completely. He won’t want to leave Mars. Christ, when it comes down to it I’ll probably have to get a couple of guys to literally pick him up and carry him off.
Not this flight, thank god. All I’ve got to do on this flight is tell him we’re giving up. Tell him it’s finished, over. All I’ve got to do is rip his guts out.
By the time the torch ship took up an orbit around Mars Dex was in a thoroughly depressed mood. Not even the sight of the red planet gliding past the observation port of the ship’s lounge gladdened him.
Jamie was also apprehensive about Dex’s arrival. He paced tensely from his tiny workspace to the cafeteria, poured himself a mug of coffee, checked with the flight monitors in the communications center.
“Oh-eight-two is right on the mark, Dr. Waterman,” the flight controller told him, smiling up at him from her display screen. “I hope they remembered to bring the cosmetics we ordered.”
Jamie tried to smile for her. His thanks came out more as a grunt than anything else. Cosmetics, he said to himself as he headed back toward his cubicle. She must just be kidding, trying to cheer me up.
Hasdrubal’s excursion to Crater Chang had been okayed. Jamie himself would go with the biologist. He was looking forward to it, looking forward to doing something useful, something more than scowling at logistics numbers that wouldn’t change and hoping for a miracle.
Unbidden, Zeke Larkin’s bitter words rang in his mind. What we’re doing here is rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.
The PA speakers blared, “L/AV HAS MADE RENDEZVOUS WITH RESUPPLY FLIGHT 082.”
When they come down, Jamie knew, Dex will be with them. And he’ll be carrying our death warrant.
The time seemed to stretch endlessly. In the weightlessness of orbit, Dex stayed in his compartment and tried not to make any sudden motions. His head felt stuffy, as if he were coming down with a bad cold. His guts felt woozy.
That’s all normal, he told himself. You’ve been through this before. Twenty-three years ago, he remembered. It’s been twenty-three years since I left Mars. I swore I’d never return. Once was enough. But here I am. Why? For Jamie. Because of that goddamned stubborn redskin.
Because he’s my friend, Dex realized. Over all these years he’s been the one real friend I’ve got. Dex sat on the edge of his bunk, gripping its sides with both hands, suddenly aware of the truth of it. Rollie Kinnear, all the people he knew from business, from the Foundation, his social acquaintances, even his various wives—Jamie’s the only one among them who’s a real friend. A pain in the ass, that’s true, but all he’s ever wanted from me is to help him explore Mars. Nothing for himself, just Mars.
And I’m here to take that away from him.
“L/AV LANDING IN TEN MINUTES,” the PA speakers announced.
Jamie looked up from his laptop’s display. He’ll be here in ten minutes. Slowly he got to his feet and started for the main airlock hatch. Then he hesitated, and made a detour toward the infirmary.
Vijay was at the desk that they had shoehorned in next to the accordion-fold door.
“Would you like to come and greet Dex?” he asked her, trying to make it sound light.
“Need some moral support, love?” she countered.
He grinned despite himself. “Only a couple tons worth.”
Vijay closed her laptop gently and got to her feet. He saw that she was wearing a light peach-colored sweater and a knee-length skirt instead of her usual coveralls.
“You expected this, didn’t you?” Jamie said.
She smiled at him, dazzling white teeth against her dark skin, and he realized all over again how much smarter she was than he.
They stood off to one side of the airlock hatch, where they could look through the dome’s transparent wall out onto the bare, rust-red ground and the towering cliffs off in the distance. A broad area had been cleared of rocks and scoured smooth by uncounted landings of L/AVs. A pair of the spindly vehicles stood off by the edge of the landing area, looking like big metallic spiders. Sunlight glinted off their bulbous glassteel canopies.
“L/AV LANDING IN ONE MINUTE,” the overhead speakers announced. Then it switched to the computer synthesized voice of the automated countdown, “FIFTY-FIVE SECONDS… FIFTY-FOUR…”
Jamie felt his palms sweating. What if there’s a malfunction? What if they have to abort the landing? What if the landing struts fail? What if—
Vijay squeezed his arm and pointed with her other hand. “Look! There it is!”
The L/AV grew from a black dot against the yellowish sky and took on solid form. Jamie could even see the skinny landing struts sticking out from the corners of the boxy main body. The craft seemed to stagger momentarily as a burst of rocket exhaust flared from its main nozzle. Then it straightened, turned slightly in midair, and descended straight down. Even through the insulated wall of the dome Jamie could hear the thin screeching of its altitude jets. Dust and pebbles flew from the landing field as the L/AV settled down softly, its thin legs flexing.
“They’re down!” Vijay exclaimed.
Jamie let out the breath that he’d been holding for the past dozen seconds.
It took a seemingly endless time for the access tube to crawl out and connect with the L/AV’s airlock. The few dozen people clustered around the dome’s airlock hatch faded back as Jamie and Vijay went to the hatch. Jamie saw that Chang was already there, in a crisply fresh set of sky blue coveralls.
“Dr. Waterman,” said the mission director, with a slight bow.
“Dr. Chang,” Jamie replied, dipping his chin in return.
Jamie found himself licking his lips as a pair of technicians swung the airlock hatch open. What should I say to Dex? Should I let Chang greet him first? How’s he going to be after coming all this way?
Dex Trumball was the first person to come through the access tunnel. He was wearing a short-sleeved sports shirt of pale lemon hanging loosely over dark slacks, and carrying a black soft-sided travel bag in one hand.