He thought about calling Hasdrubal. And Chang. No, Jamie said to himself. Dex first. Just Dex. One-on-one. I’ll tell the others afterward.
Dex came out of his quarters, squinting unhappily at the sunlight lancing through the dome as he trudged slowly toward Jamie in the cafeteria. Jamie bolted out of his chair and sprinted toward him.
“What’s going on? What’s happened? Christ, you don’t even have shoes on!”
Steering Dex toward the coffee machine, Jamie said eagerly, “We’ve been looking through the wrong end of the telescope! All this time you’ve been thinking about terraforming the area for your tourists.”
“And you’ve been dead against it,” Dex muttered.
“I was wrong. We both were wrong. We don’t terraform Mars for human visitors. We terraform for the Martians!”
Dex squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “It’s too damned early for jokes, Jamie.”
“It’s no joke! Take a piece of Mars and terraform it so that Martian organisms can live in it!”
“Terraform for Martians?”
“Terraform’s the wrong word. Areform it. Ares is the astronomical term for Mars, isn’t it?”
Dex reached for the coffeepot with one hand, a mug with his other.
“Jamie, what the hell are you talking about?”
“You went out with us to Hasdrubal’s crater yesterday.”
“Yeah. His bugs are all dead.”
Guiding Dex to a table, Jamie said, “Well, suppose we had another crater, deep enough to expose the microbes living below the permafrost.”
“They’d die off from the cold and radiation, just like the ones—”
“Not if we domed over the crater!” Jamie said as they sat down. “Let the air pressure build up inside it naturally. Protect it from the cold and radiation.”
Dex opened his mouth, closed it. At last he said, “You think the bugs could live?”
“In a Martian environment! Yes!”
With a slow shake of his head, Dex asked, “How do you know what kind of environment they’d need? They live deep underground, don’t they?”
“We’ll make several craters. Five, ten, whatever. Make slightly different environments in each of them. Vary the air pressure, the temperature—and watch the microbes adapt to the new conditions.”
“They’ll all die.”
“Hasdrubal’s microbes survived for a couple of weeks,” Jamie countered. “If we protect them, give them better conditions, some of them might survive. It’s worth trying!”
“And study them as they adapt,” Dex muttered.
“It’s a chance to begin repopulating Mars!”
“They’re only bacteria, Jamie.”
“But they’ll evolve, over time.”
“Millions of years.”
“So we do a long-term experiment!”
Dex leaned back in his chair and took a long swig of coffee. “You’re crazy, you know.”
“So was Archimedes,” Jamie said, laughing.
“Eureka and all that.”
“We can do it, Dex! The greatest experiment of all time! We can bring life back to Mars! Instead of watching the planet die, we can repopulate it!”
“And who’s going to pay for it?”
Jamie hesitated, then answered, “Your tourists, I guess.”
Sitting up straighter, Dex said, “You’ll let tourists here?”
“This area only,” Jamie said, his old reluctance giving way only slightly. “The village, the cliff structures. Five at a time. They stay for one week.”
Before Dex could respond, Jamie added, “And no terraforming. They go out in nanosuits, just like the rest of us.”
Dex pursed his lips, then said, “Might make them enjoy the trip better, using the suits, make them realize they’re really on Mars.”
“I’ll take charge of the visitors,” Jamie said. “Personally.” That’s the price I’ll have to pay, he told himself.
Dex grinned at him. “Yes, warden.”
“And, Dex, can you add into their price a fellowship for students who want to spend a year on Mars?”
“Maybe.” Dex thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, I don’t see why not.”
Jamie sucked in a deep breath. “Okay. Now let’s tell Hasdrubal. And Chang.”
“You tell them,” said Dex. “Soon’s I finish this coffee I’m going back to my room and pack.”
With a laugh, Jamie said, “I’ve got something for you to take back with you. Billy Graycloud’s translated the Martian writing.”
“Translated—?”
“It’s a prayer, Dex. A beautiful Martian prayer to the sun.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“You can stir up some interest with it. Get some media attention.”
Dex nodded slowly. “Sure.”
“Good.”
Getting slowly to his feet alongside Jamie, coffee mug in one hand, Dex asked, “Can I go pack my bag now?”
“You don’t want to stay?”
“Hell no. I’ve got a lot to do back on Earth. You stay here, Jamie. This is home for you.”
Tithonium Base: The Million-Year Experiment
Jamie fingered the bear fetish in his coveralls pocket as he stood between Chang Laodong and Carter Carleton watching the access tube disconnect from the squat, squarish body of the L/AV and roll back toward the dome.
So long, Dex, Jamie said silently. Pick your tourists carefully. I’ll be here waiting for them.
“LIFTOFF IN FIFTEEN SECONDS,” the overhead speakers announced, “FOURTEEN… THIRTEEN…”
Saleem Hasdrubal came up beside them. Looking out at the L/AV, he said, “I hear you’ve been talkin’ about my work.”
“…TEN… NINE… EIGHT…”
Jamie said, “That’s right.”
“Mind tellin’ me about it?”
“…FIVE… FOUR…”
Jamie held up a finger, his eyes on the landing/ascent vehicle, his other hand squeezing the fetish. Rocket launches always had an element of danger, he knew.
“…TWO… ONE… LIFTOFF.”
The L/AV hurtled out of sight, the hot exhaust from its ascent engine spraying grit and pebbles across the landing area.
“Liftoff nominal,” they heard the astronaut pilot’s voice, almost as emotionless as the computer. “On track for orbital rendezvous.”
Jamie relaxed his grip on the stone bear. Turning to Hasdrubal, he began explaining his idea for repopulating the dying Mars. Together with Carleton and Chang they started walking slowly away from the airlock area.
The biologist’s eyes widened as he grasped what Jamie was saying. “It’d take a million years before you saw any development,” he said, his voice slightly hollow with awe.
Jamie replied, “It’ll be a long-term experiment, that’s for sure.”
Chang asked, “Can it be done?”
“Blasting out some new craters and doming ’em over?” Hasdrubal asked. “Yeah, sure. Make ’em deep enough to expose the SLiMEs. Why not?”
The mission director almost smiled. “Then watch bacteria adapt to new conditions.”
“Watch them evolve,” said Carleton. “The fundamentalists are going to go wild over that.”
“Let them,” Jamie said tightly. “Tourism will keep us funded.” And he realized, “Every tourist who comes here will be a walking advertisement for our work when he gets back home.”
Carleton grinned mischievously. “I’ll put them to work at the dig. That should give them something to talk about when they return to Earth.”
“Let them take souvenirs home?” Jamie asked.
The anthropologist shrugged. “Martian rocks. Or pebbles, more likely.”
Chang spoke up. “When a tourist digs up something of significance, artifact or fossil, attach his or her name to it. Give them pride.”
“Good idea,” said Carleton. “We’ll keep a running catalogue of all the bits and pieces, with the names of the people who found them.”