Seiji Toshima’s round face appeared on the small screen. He looked as baggy-eyed and bleary as Jamie felt.
"I am sorry to awaken you so early," the meteorologist said, without preamble, "but I must warn you of a dust storm that may strike your region this morning."
"Dust storm?" Jamie muttered. "What?"
"Dust storm! Wind speeds of two hundred knots. Visibility reduced to near zero. Density of particles in air high enough to damage unprotected equipment! You must prepare!"
"Wait…" Jamie’s head was buzzing. "Slow down. What are you talking about?"
"The canyon system acts as a wind tunnel," Toshima said rapidly. "The approaching cold front will send a wave of energy down the canyon and create a dust storm of great severity. You must be prepared for this! Unprotected equipment could be damaged. People out in the open could become disoriented. The dust could be thick enough to reduce vision severely. Even radio communications might be affected."
"But I thought the storms didn’t come this far south at this time of the year," Jamie said as the impact of Toshima’s warning began to sink in.
The meteorologist slowed down and explained his belief that the entire canyon complex could become a giant wind tunnel filled with blowing dust.
"I can keep you updated on an hourly basis," he said. "I have asked Ulanov and Diels in the orbiter to focus all instrumentation on the canyon area this morning. Fortunately, the spacecraft hovers over this hemisphere constantly."
Jamie could hear the sounds of the others getting out of their bunks behind him.
"I would advise against any EVA today that is farther than a few minutes’ walk from your vehicle," Toshima said. "With wind speeds of two hundred knots a storm could be upon you before you know it."
"Shit," Jamie groused. "Suppose we move the rover farther west? We were going to anyway, and then dig a deep borehole and instrument it."
Toshima hiked his eyebrows. "The storm will overtake you no matter what your position."
"If the storm actually happens," Jamie said.
The Japanese meteorologist closed his eyes briefly. "Yes," he hissed. "If my forecast is correct."
Jamie leaned back in the seat, feeling exhausted already. "Okay. Thanks for the warning. Give us an hour to talk it over and have breakfast. Then we’ll call you back."
Toshima looked away from the screen, then was pushed aside by Vosnesensky. The Russian looked grimmer than usual.
"Jamie, we have checked the situation with Dr. Li. Toshima’s prediction is tentative, but serious enough to take… well, seriously."
"Yep. I understand."
"There is to he no EVA and no moving of the rover without checking with me first," Vosnesensky said.
Jamie nodded.
"Let me talk with Connors now."
It took an effort for Jamie to turn his head and look back toward the rear of the module. "He’s in the john," Jamie said to the screen. "I’ll tell him to check in with you when he comes out."
"Yes. As soon as he comes out."
It took nearly half an hour before all four of them were washed and dressed in their daytime coveralls. Jamie already felt too tired even to consider shaving. One advantage of Indian blood, he said to himself as he peered blearily into the mirror. Not much of a beard. When he came out of the lavatory he noticed that Connors had not shaved either. His beard was grizzled with gray; it made him look older.
They folded up the bunks in silence and sat on the benches, four steaming meals on the table between them, together with the usual bottle of vitamin supplement pills.
"Mikhail doesn’t want us to move until they see if a sandstorm is actually developing," Connors said, picking at his reconstituted eggs and soy bacon.
"It’s just as well," said Ilona. "I don’t think we’re in condition to do very much."
"You still feel that bad?" Jamie asked.
"Terrible. What about you?"
"Pretty punk. But I think we could at least go outside and do some more sampling. What about you, Joanna?"
She looked miserable: pale and red eyed. There were dark rings under her eyes. Ilona looked worse: gaunt, hollow cheeked. Jamie knew that his own face was sunken, bleary.
Connors said, "No way around it. We’re gonna have to tell Reed about this."
Jamie nodded reluctantly. "What about drilling a deep core while we’re stuck here?"
"No sense starting to unpack the power drill if we’ll have to break it down and stow it away again when the storm hits. We’re in no great shape for heavy work anyway."
"But if there’s no storm we’ll have wasted the whole damned day." Jamie realized he was starting to sound like Patel. For the same reason: precious time was being stolen from him, time he needed to do his work.
"We ought to know if the storm’s going to happen in an hour or two," Connors said.
"Maybe," said Jamie. "And maybe Toshima’s just going off the deep end."
"Want me to ask Mikhail?"
Jamie knew that Vosnesensky would simply repeat what he had already said: Stay safely inside the rover and take no risks.
Joanna was doggedly finishing her breakfast, spooning up the last of the frozen fruit dessert. "I can at least spend the day examining the rocks and soil samples we brought in yesterday," she said.
Ilona murmured, "I will assist you. I think I can manage that. The ones with the bright orange intrusions look interesting."
"Like Jamie’s green rock?" Joanna forced a smile.
Ilona smiled back. "These are orange."
Jamie said, "I’d appreciate it if you’d analyze the core samples first."
"Not the rocks?"
He started to shake his head but the motion brought fresh pain. "There’s heat coming up from below the surface and water in some form that makes up the morning mists. I think the core samples have more to tell us than colored rocks."
Joanna cocked her head slightly to one side. "If you wish," she said, sounding unconvinced.
"I’m going to call Reed," Connors said, sliding out from behind the table.
And I’m going to sit here like an idiot with nothing to do. The lab module was too small for three of them to work in it simultaneously. "I guess I’ll clean up," he said.
The women went slowly back to the airlock and through it to the lab module. Connors was already up in the cockpit calling Reed. Jamie stood alone at the narrow table littered with the remains of their breakfast, feeling a dull ache in his joints and a sullen throbbing in his head.
It can’t be the flu, he told himself. We would have come down with it months ago if it was flu or any other kind of infectious disease. It’s something we’ve caught here, something from Mars. Can’t be anything else.
He remembered his dream and shuddered.
He’s lot the cat out of the bag, Tony Reed said to himself as he studied the face of Pete Connors on his communications screen. Is it my imagination or has his complexion gone sallow?
The astronaut was perspiring lightly, that much Reed could easily see. His eyes were bloodshot, his speech a bit slower than usual. And he had reported that all four of the people in the rover were feeling sick. Vosnesensky can’t hide that from Li. No matter how much Mikhail Andreivitch wants to cover this up, Connors has spilled the beans.
"And you say that all four of you are in the same condition?" Reed asked.
"Pretty much," replied Connors. "Ilona seems the worst off. Jamie’s in the best shape — or at least he’s not complaining as much."