"If we uphold that decision the mission will be wrecked. More than half your fellow scientists have refused to go, I am sorry to say."
"More than half!"
Brumado nodded.
"This is an affront to the entire nation of Austria!"
"No," said Dr. Li, from the other end of the table. "It is entirely a personal matter. There are no politics involved here. It is all personalities."
"Yes, I see." Hoffman jabbed a finger toward Joanna. "She wants that American Indian by her side, so I am to be thrown off."
Brumado felt his jaw drop open.
"What are you saying?" Joanna demanded.
"I know very well how you and the Apache or Navaho or whatever he is… the two of you, at McMurdo…"
"Nothing happened between us," Joanna said. Turning to her father, "He’s lying. There was nothing…"
Brumado raised his hand and she fell silent. To Hoffman he said, "I can see that there are stresses here and strained relationships that could cause a disaster for the mission to Mars."
Hoffman glared, his face reddening.
"I know it is an enormous sacrifice, but I must ask you to resign from the mission," Brumado said.
"Never!" Hoffman snapped. "And if you try to force me out I will tell the world’s media that you have thrown me out in favor of your daughter’s lover!"
Joanna looked stunned, stricken, speechless.
One of Alberto Brumado’s traits was that the angrier he became, the more icy calm. Anger that would drive another man to tantrums or violence merely made him colder, keener, more deliberate.
"Professor Hoffman," he said, clasping his hands prayerfully on the tabletop, "if you ask me to choose between your claim and my daughter’s denial, do you think for an instant that I would believe you?"
"They were lovers, I am certain of it."
"You have proven, merely in these few minutes, that it would be disastrous to include you on the Mars team."
"I will appeal to the board of selection! And to the media!"
As patiently as a physician detailing the risks of surgery, Brumado said, "The board of selection cannot and will not override the wishes of the exploration team. And if you go to the media we will be forced to reveal that most of the scientists on the team dislike you so much that they have refused to go on the mission if you are included."
Hoffman’s nostrils flared. His eyes glittered with rage.
"Whatever happens, what do you think the effect on your reputation will be? How will your university react to such notoriety? Do you know what it’s like to have the media hounding you night and day?"
The Austrian looked away from Brumado, glanced at Li, then turned his gaze toward the ceiling.
"I urge you," Brumado said, reasonably, placatingly, remorselessly, "to tender your resignation. For the good of your career. For the sake of your wife. For the sake of this mission. Please, please, do not allow pride or anger to ruin the human race’s first attempt to explore the planet Mars. I beg of you."
Li said, "We can see to it that your university gets first priority in analyzing the soil samples and rocks returned from the mission."
"Or, if you wish," Brumado added, "we can help you to get an appointment at the university of your choice, and you can analyze the samples there."
"You are offering me a bribe," Hoffman growled.
"Yes," said Brumado. "Quite frankly, I would offer anything I could to save this mission."
"It is in your hands," Li said in a near whisper.
Brumado saw that the shock on his daughter’s face had been replaced by something deeper than anger. Hatred, he realized. He put a calming hand on her shoulder and felt the tension that coiled within her.
Hoffman muttered, "My wife never wanted me to go to Mars."
"You can have a very prestigious position," Dr. Li coaxed. "Leader of the scientific analysis of the Mars samples."
"No announcements have been made about the final team choices," Brumado reminded him. "There will be no embarrassment for you."
Suddenly tears sprang from Hoffman’s eyes. "What can I do? You are all against me. Even my wife!"
His head drooped to the tabletop, cradled in his arms, and he began to sob uncontrollably. Brumado turned toward Li, feeling like a torturer, a murderer.
"I will take care of him," Li said softly. "Please go now, both of you. And send in Dr. Reed, if he is still outside. Otherwise, ask the secretary to summon a physician."
Brumado pushed his chair back and slowly rose to his feet. His daughter still showed nothing but contempt for the sobbing man huddled at the head of the table. The mission is saved, Brumado found himself thinking. That is the important thing. The mission will go on despite this poor, wretched man.
5
It was still dark when the phone woke Jamie. He struggled up from a dream of ancient men trying to build a tower on the windswept top of a bare grassless mesa. The bricks kept melting away in the hot sunshine, the tower never rose higher than his own reach.
The phone buzzed insistently. Jamie finally opened his eyes, remembered that he was back in his own apartment again, alone, and groped for the telephone on the bedside table. The digital clock read 6:26 a.m. There was no hint of sunrise through the drawn blinds of the bedroom window.
"Dr. Waterman?" a man’s voice asked crisply.
"Right."
"This is an official message from Kaliningrad. I am Yegorov, personnel section."
"Yes?" Jamie was instantly wide-awake.
"You are to report to the Johnson Space Center at eight hundred hours local time and receive your orders for immediate transportation to the Kennedy Space Center in Florida. From there you will board the space shuttle for transport to the orbital assembly facility."
"You mean I’m going to Mars?" Jamie shouted into the phone.
"Oh, yes. Did you not know? You have been selected as geologist on the first landing team. Good luck."
Jamie’s first impulse was to give an ear-splitting war whoop. But instead he merely said, "Thank you."
He hung up, suddenly feeling hollow inside, empty, as if he had finally pushed through a door that had been locked against him and found that it opened onto thin air.
He got out of bed, showered, shaved, repacked his well-used travel bag, and drove out to the center. Sure enough, there was a team of grinning men and women at the travel office waiting for him.
"A plane will be ready for you at the airstrip in about half an hour."
"What about my car?" Jamie suddenly realized he had made no plans about the car, the apartment, his furniture. Absurdly, he wondered what to do with his magazine and journal subscriptions.
"We’ll take care of all the details. Just sign these forms."
Jamie scribbled his name without reading the forms. Fuck it, he thought. They can have the car and everything else. Won’t need it on Mars!
They drove him to the airstrip, the whole roomful of clerks piled into one gray agency station wagon, pressing against Jamie, wanting to be as close as they could be to the man who was going to Mars. Jamie did not mind the closeness, he was thankful for the ride; he (lid not trust himself to drive. The excitement was getting to him. Mars. Geologist on the first landing team. Mars.
Edith was standing at the entrance to the hangar, in jeans and a light sweater. Obviously not her working clothes. He suddenly felt ashamed for not phoning her.
"How’d you know?" he asked, travel bag in one hand.
She grinned up at him. "I have my sources. I work in news, y’know."
"I…" Jamie did not know what to say. The clerks who had driven him here, the airplane mechanics, there were too many people watching them.