"I must be free to speak with you off the record," she said. "When I have finished we can decide what is important for the mission and what is purely personal. Is that all right?" Her voice was almost pleading.
Leaning back in the complaining chair again Reed said airily, "Yes, yes, of course. That will be fine. I want you to feel free to speak openly."
Joanna stared at the computer on the desk. Reed smiled, reached over, and turned it off.
"Now then," he said, "what seems to be the matter?"
She hesitated. Then, "A… a certain member of the group…" She went silent.
Reed waited for a few moments, then prompted, "A member of the group did what? Insulted you? Attacked you? What?"
Her eyes went wide. "Oh, nothing like that!"
"Really?"
She almost seemed relieved. "One of the men tried to make advances, but that was no problem. We have all learned how to deal with that."
"We?"
"All the women in the group."
"You’re saying that some of the men make improper overtures to you?" Reed asked.
Joanna actually smiled. "Of course they do. We can handle that. It is not a problem."
"The men don’t persist? They don’t become threatening?"
She dismissed that idea with a feminine little shrug. "There is only one who makes a real pest of himself."
"Dr. Hoffman," Reed prompted.
"How did you know?"
"Has Hoffman bothered you?"
"He has tried. I was a bit concerned at first; he seemed so insistent."
"And?"
"I have learned to deal with him. We women help each other, you know."
Reed fought to keep himself from frowning. "What’s your problem, then?"
Joanna’s faint smile disappeared. She looked troubled once again. Glancing around the room before replying, she finally said, "It is Dr. Waterman."
"Jamie?"
"He has given up his chance to go on the mission in order to help me."
"As I understand it," Reed said stiffly, "he did not volunteer for that. Dr. Li ordered him to do it."
"Yes, I know," Joanna said. "But still — he is very kind, very helpful. Under other circumstances…"
"Good lord, young lady, you’re not telling me that you’ve fallen in love with him!" Reed was aghast.
"No, no, of course not," she answered too quickly. "We have only been together a few days. But…" Her voice trailed off again; she looked away from Reed.
Feeling a puzzling confusion roiling inside him, Tony said, "It would be extremely unwise to become emotionally involved with a man you will probably never see again, once your tour here at McMurdo is finished."
"I know. I understand that."
"Then what is your problem?" Reed demanded.
"I feel terribly guilty that he is giving up his chance to make the mission because of me."
"I see." Reed relaxed, leaned back again and steepled his fingers. "Of course you do. It’s a perfectly natural reaction."
"What should I do?"
He spread his hands vaguely. "Do? There’s nothing for you to do. The decision to keep Waterman here was not made by you; you’re not responsible for his fate."
"But I am! Don’t you see?"
Pointing to the computer screen and smiling, Reed said, in his most persuasive doctor-knows-best manner, "My dear young lady, Waterman was picked to help you — and the others, I might add — because Li and the selection board had already decided he would not be included in the Mars team. Do you think for one moment that they would take someone already chosen for Mars and scratch him from the roster merely to help you here? No. Certainly not. Waterman’s fate was already decided. You had nothing to do with it."
Joanna stared at him for a long wordless moment. Finally she asked, "You are sure of this?"
Nodding toward the silent computer once more, Reed said, "I do have access to all the personnel files, you know."
She breathed out a deeply relieved sigh.
Watching her blouse, Reed felt seething disappointment burning in his gut. Hoffman’s so inept that he doesn’t frighten her. And now she’s allowed herself to form a romantic attachment to this red man from the wild west. This isn’t what I had planned for her. Not at all.
SOL 2: MORNING
Standing out in the open, Jamie realized once more how much Mars reminded him of the rocky, mountainous desert of northwestern New Mexico. In the dawn’s slanting light the cliffs to the west glowed red, just as they did at home.
But the sky was pink, not blue, and the rock-strewn ground was utterly bare. Not a twig or a leaf. Not a lizard or a spider or even a patch of moss to break the endless rusty reds and oranges of the desert. The sun was small and weak, too far away to give warmth.
Magnificent desolation. An astronaut had said that about the moon, decades ago. Jamie thought it more appropriate for Mars. The world he saw was magnificent, beautiful in a strange, clean, untouched way. Proud and austere, its desert harsh and totally empty, its cliffs stark and bare, Mars was barren yet splendidly beautiful in its own uncompromised severity.
Looking out to the horizon, Jamie felt an urge to walk out as far as he could, just keep on going forever across this magnificent landscape that was so alien yet so much like home. He snorted angrily to himself. Leave the mysticism behind you, he chided himself. You don’t want to be the first man to die on Mars.
Yet it looked like a good place for dying — a dead world. On Earth life has crawled into every crevice and corner it can find, from pole to pole. Even in the dry Antarctic deserts there’s life hidden inside the rocks. But this place looks dead. Dead as the moon. If any life at all exists here it should have changed the way the place looks.
Jamie recalled tales of creatures made of silicon and green-skinned Martians with six limbs. Don’t judge without evidence, his scientific conscience warned. Be patient, said a deeper voice within him. The rules of life may be different on this new world.
He shook his head inside his helmet as if trying to clear away the argument within. The suit had acquired that faintly acrid, not unpleasant odor of his own body now. We’ve personalized our suits, Jamie thought, as he carried another bulky crate of medical supplies from the lander to the airlock hatch of their dome, balancing it on his shoulder as if it weighed no more than a sack of cornmeal.
"Look! There they are!"
It was Connors’s voice, high with excitement. Jamie and the American astronaut were unloading the last of the supplies from the lander. Vosnesensky and Reed were carrying them from the airlock to their proper storage places inside the dome. The two women had been assigned to checking off the stores on the computer’s inventory lists. So much for equal rights, thought Jamie.
He straightened up and tried to follow Connors’s pointing outstretched arm. The top of his helmet blocked his view for a moment, but by tilting his head inside the helmet slightly, Jamie managed to see the thin streak of a contrail blazing across the pink sky.
"Right on time," Connors said, holding his left wrist up in front of his visor. "They’ll be landing on schedule."
As if to confirm the observation, Vosnesensky’s heavy voice came through Jamie’s earphones. "Team two is in reentry trajectory. We must be finished off-loading by the time they land, in… fifty-eight minutes."
Fifty-eight minutes later all six members of the first team stood between their own lander and the inflated dome, watching the fiery descent of the second lander.
Everything about the Mars expedition was done in pairs. There were two landing parties, two backup teams who remained in orbit around the planet, duplicates of every piece of equipment and milligram of supplies.