Things had been starting to look up as she had realized that the general mood of the base was more pessimistic than hostile and that it was not due to her. She pushed herself harder, becoming more diplomatic and more optimistic. She congratulated and cajoled, made frequent reference to what was happening with Argus, and noting what it might be possible to achieve. And, slowly at first, the general mood had changed to one of cautious optimism. However, as she now peered ahead through the Martian dawn, she felt a return of the anger she had managed to control since her brief exchange with Martinez.
The sun was casting a weak light across the Martian landscape as Var drove her ATV the last few kilometres towards the chasma, and now she could see that the lifting framework had still not been disassembled.
‘What did he say: “all the bolts rusted solid and needing to be cut”?’
‘That’s what he said,’ Lopomac replied from beside her. ‘He did seem to have a case, but it wasn’t corrosion – they’d used some sort of bonding in the joints.’
‘Even so, he’s had cutting equipment there for five days now.’
‘Quite,’ agreed Lopomac.
It wasn’t entirely necessary for her to drive all the way out here to discover why there had been so many delays. Really, she could have ordered Rhone and his crew back, then sent someone else out here instead. However, she needed a bit of time away from the base to think some things over.
And there was a lot to think about.
My brother is the Owner. . .
She had been stunned by the discovery, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She could think of no other single person more likely to manage what he had clearly achieved. If, in the past, someone had asked her to identify one person who could make a difference to the situation on Earth, after she had dismissed the likelihood of someone like Chairman Messina making any changes, Alan would have come to the forefront of her mind. But even Messina, who thought he could have made great alterations to how things worked on Earth, could never have managed the things Alan had done; like getting himself aboard the Argus Space Station, stealing it, then destroying Committee infrastructure on Earth . . . And now, with the station under his control, a space drive . . .
It was, she felt, a terrible shame that one of the greatest steps forward in human history was being made at a time when humanity itself was in such a dismal position. What Alan was doing aboard Argus Station should really be marking the beginning of some golden age, as wonderful horizons opened up for humanity. It should not be something born out of necessity just for some people to escape the grasp of nightmare totalitarianism. But then, it was ever thus. Hadn’t some of the biggest advances of the past been the result of the horrible necessities of war? Hadn’t nuclear power generation arisen from the ashes of Hiroshima and Nagasaki?
But still.
Var understood herself enough to know that her recent disconnect from the exigencies here, and her present focus on what Hannah Neumann had told her, was a purely selfish thing. In her childhood she had been obsessed with the idea of space travel; as she grew up, that obsession had never waned, and eventually she’d arrived at precisely where she wanted to be. Admittedly her parents had helped her up the first steps of that ladder, but it was her own ability that had taken her all the way to the top, to become the chief overseer of the Mars Traveller project, and of the Alexander – now named the Scourge. And now her brother was about to test out what seemed likely to be one of the biggest advances in the technology of space travel that the human race had ever experienced.
She wanted to be there for it.
‘Here we go,’ she said, as she drew the ATV to a halt.
Securing their EA suits, she and Lopomac climbed out of the vehicle and looked around. Two other ATVs, both with trailers, were pulled up nearby. A power supply of stacked super-capacitors rested next to the lifting gear, in the framework of which a few people worked. The buzz of a diamond saw could be heard, just a weak mosquito whine out here, and some lengths of the framework had already been stacked on one trailer. It wasn’t enough, though – they should have been a lot further ahead than this. Then her gaze came to rest on one of the ATVs, and she saw something that immediately made her suspicious. The vehicle was one of those possessing a standard-fitting satellite dish, but why was it unfolded and pointing upwards? She began walking towards it.
Rhone shortly stepped out of the ATV concerned and walked over to them. Two others who had exited the same vehicle before him were already carrying heavy tool bags towards the lifting gear. A routine tea break maybe?
‘I suppose you’ve come here to tell me off,’ said Rhone.
‘Not really,’ Var replied, ‘but I would like some explanation of why it’s taking so damned long.’
He gestured towards where the work was in progress, then led the way over. Soon they stood beside the towering framework. Over to their left lay the drop into the chasma itself, and beyond it a superb view of the gorgeously unreal landscape. Rhone pointed out one of the joints in the framework.
‘I told Lopomac here about the joints,’ he explained. ‘I earlier made the mistake of assuming it was some form of electrolytic corrosion, but he then helpfully pointed out that it looked like epoxy bonding. He was correct.’
‘Seemed fairly obvious,’ said Lopomac.
‘So,’ said Var, ‘the fixings are bonded. We cut through them, and just weld the framework after we get it back to Martinez.’
Rhone nodded and dipped his head down to peer more closely at the joint, as if further considering her words. At that moment a dull clattering issued from where the workers were located inside the framework. Over radio came an odd crunching sound.
Rhone now stood upright. ‘I knew you would come out here eventually,’ he said.
It took her half a second to realize what had happened. She whirled round to see Lopomac falling, his visor smashed and spattered with blood, vapour issuing from an exit hole that had removed the back of his skull. As she turned back, Rhone had moved out of her reach, and the two who had left the ATV before him were stepping forward. Both of them carried Kalashtech assault rifles that were aimed at her. Var backed up, expecting a bullet at any moment.
‘Traitor,’ she spat.
‘No,’ Rhone replied, ‘just someone who wants to survive. Your arrogance will kill us all. We stand no chance against Earth.’
‘So you’ve been talking to them,’ she said. ‘You’ve been talking to the Scourge?’ She glanced around but could see no way out. They were going to kill her here and now, and that would be the end of it. ‘They’ll just stick you on trial, then in an adjustment cell. Your torture and death will probably appear on ETV primetime.’
‘On the contrary,’ said Rhone, ‘I’ve been talking to Serene Galahad directly and she has made guarantees.’
‘And you believe her?’
‘I believe her guarantees more than I believe that we can survive here unaided. I believe her guarantees more than I believe your fantasies, Varalia Delex.’
Var realized she had backed up right to the edge of the chasma. She was doing their work for them. When they shot her, she would topple into it and they wouldn’t have the messy task of throwing her over the edge. Doubtless Rhone would then return to the base with some story about a nasty accident occurring out here. They weren’t that uncommon.
‘I suppose you killed Delaware just to undermine me,’ she said desperately, turning now to glance down at the long drop behind her. She noticed then how there were rails bolted against the surface down which the lift-cradle had run, because the drop wasn’t sheer.