“And you’re willing to risk Vijay’s life, too.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Fair my ass! You want everything your own way. Well, there’s more than one way to run this operation and once you’re gone from Mars I’ll come back and do what needs to be done to keep exploring this planet.”
“With tourists.”
“With the frigging Seventh Cavalry, if that’s the only way to do it.”
“Yeah, I imagine you would.”
“This isn’t some holy crusade, Jamie,” Dex insisted. “You see Mars as some kind of sacred shrine. Only the truly devout may set foot upon it. Well, that’s not the way the world works, friend. Never was and never will be.”
“I believe it’s our duty to preserve this place from people who’d wreck it.”
“Christ, you’re like a father who’d rather send his daughter to a convent instead of letting her live in the real world.”
“This is the real world!” Jamie fairly shouted, spreading his arms out wide. “I don’t want to see it ruined!”
“Then stay here and help protect it. Stay here and take charge of the tourists who’ll bring in the money you need to keep going.”
“I can’t. Dex. I just can’t do it!” Jamie pleaded, his insides knotting.
“Then we’ll do it without you, after you leave.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Dex drew in an exaggerated, exasperated sigh. “So you’re going to stay here. You and fourteen other fools.”
“As long as I can.”
With a shake of his head, Dex said softly, “I just hope you don’t kill yourself, pal. Or your wife.”
He turned abruptly and strode away, leaving Jamie standing there, furious, his insides clenched. He realized the dome was utterly silent. The people in the cafeteria were as immobile as rocks, staring at him. Feeling alone and friendless, Jamie walked off toward his quarters.
Now he lay in bed, realizing that he might never speak to Dex again. He also realized that Dex was right. There was no other way: no other path that led out of this quagmire. But it was a path he could not take.
As quietly as he could, Jamie slipped out of bed. He padded to the lavatory and pulled on a fresh set of coveralls, then tiptoed to the door.
“Jamie?” Vijay called drowsily.
“I’ve got to go out for a little while,” he whispered to her. “I’ll be back. Go to sleep.”
Without waiting for her reply he slid the door back and stepped out into the dome’s open common area. Barefoot. Like a skulking redskin, he said to himself. Sneaking around in the night.
The dome was dimly lit. Just about everybody was asleep, except for the people monitoring the communications equipment. No one was outside in the bitter Martian night. No one was out on an excursion. They were all asleep, Jamie thought, waiting for the inevitable day when they would leave Mars. For good.
As he padded softly toward his office Jamie heard the soft sighing of the breeze wafting by. On any other night it would have comforted him. Not tonight. Mars is saying good-bye to us. Goodbye to me.
He reached his office, sat on the yielding little chair, and sank his head in his hands.
It’s finished, he thought. Dex is right. What can fifteen people do here? I’d be putting Vijay’s life in danger. I can’t do it. I can’t do it.
They win, Jamie told himself. I have to leave Mars. Forever.
He wanted to cry. He wanted to sob and tear his hair and mourn the death of all that he had hoped for, all that he had worked for. But tears would not come. Not even that solace was allowed him.
“Uh… Dr. W?”
Jamie looked up, feeling his cheeks flare hot with embarrassment.
It was Billy Graycloud standing at the entrance of his cubbyhole, looking more than a little embarrassed himself.
Tithonium Base: The Prayer
“Billy,” Jamie said softly, suppressing an urge to wipe his face, straighten his hair.
“I… uh, saw the light on in your office.…”
Some office, Jamie thought. A cubicle with flimsy partitions that’ll collapse if you lean on them.
“Do you have a minute?” Graycloud asked. His voice was soft, but Jamie heard some urgency in it.
Remembering, Jamie apologized, “I said I’d see you after dinner, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I got… tied up, sort of.”
Graycloud nodded minimally. “You and Mr. Trumball.” Jamie nodded back, realizing that everybody in the dome must have heard their shouting.
“So what do you want to tell me, Billy?” he asked wearily.
Shifting uneasily on his feet, Graycloud replied, “Can you come over to the comm center? It’d be easier if I show you what I’ve got so far.”
“The translation?” Jamie got up out of his chair.
“I’d like to get your reaction to it, if you’ve got a couple minutes.”
“Okay.” Jamie got to his feet slowly.
As they started across the shadowy dome, Graycloud said, “I think maybe I’m getting some sense out of the writings.”
“You are?” Despite himself, Jamie felt a tendril of excitement pulse through him.
“I think so. I might be foolin’ myself, you know, putting words in their mouths, kinda.…”
“Let’s see.”
Leading the way toward the comm center, Graycloud explained, “I assigned specific words to each of the symbols, and then sort of filled in to make sense of each line. Like the Egyptologists did to translate the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics, back in the nineteenth century.”
Jamie felt an increased respect for the young Navaho. “You’ve been doing some research, haven’t you?”
Graycloud lowered his eyes bashfully. “Yessir. Some.”
Two women were monitoring the consoles in the communications center. Graycloud booted up an unused computer while Jamie pulled over a wheeled chair and sat beside him.
“It’s pretty rough,” Graycloud said, his fingers working the keyboard. “And like I said, I’m prob’ly putting words into their mouths, kinda. But I haven’t changed the sequence of their pictographs; each word stands in the same place as its symbol carved on the wall.”
“Let’s see what you’ve got, Billy.”
The display screen showed an image of the Martian pictographs. Then words in English began to print over it.
“The words in brackets are what I put in. The rest is straight from the symbols themselves, in the same order as they appear on the wall,” Graycloud explained.
Jamie barely heard him. He was focused on the translation as it came up on the screen.
[We are] the People. The People [live] under Father Sun. Father Sun [is] life. Father Sun [makes] the crops [grow]. Father Sun [is] Life. Father Sun [makes] the river [flow]. Father Sun [makes] the river [bring] water [to or for] the People. Father Sun [is] life. Father Sun [makes] the wind [blow]. Father Sun [makes] the clouds [bring] rain. Father Sun [gives] life [to] The People. Father Sun [is] life. The People [worship? adore?] Father Sun. Father Sun [gives] life [to] the People. Father Sun [is] life.
“The rest is pretty much the same,” Graycloud said, almost whispering. “Lots of repetition. It’s kinda like a poem, sort of.”
“It’s a prayer,” Jamie said, also in a near-whisper, his eyes still staring at the words.
“A prayer,” Graycloud echoed. Then he raised his voice slightly, breaking the spell. “Or maybe it’s just all garbage. You know, maybe I just put in words that have nothin’ to do with what the Martians really meant to say.”
“No, Billy, I don’t think so. You’ve made contact with them. You’ve touched their spirit.”
“You think so?”
More excited now, Jamie said, “You’ve got to write this up and get it published. And let Dex Trumball see it, too, before he takes off tomorrow.”