The Japanese turned to the Russian. "What would be the reaction of the Soviet Federation if the United States makes a strong statement of support for further missions?"
The Russian shrugged elaborately. "With both the U.S.A. and Japan lined up in favor, I think the forces of enlightenment in Moscow would gain enough strength to override the objections of the obstructionists."
The American hiked a shaggy eyebrow. "Does that mean yea or nay?"
They all burst into laughter. "Yes," said the Russian. "Positively yes."
Then all three of the project directors fixed their eyes on Brumado.
"It’s up to you, then, Alberto old pal," said the American. "None of us can do it. You’ve got to convince this redskin that he’s got to support the Vice-President."
"I hope he will," said Brumado.
"It’s either that or the program ends when they return to Earth."
Brumado nodded his agreement. Then, "Has Waterman been kept from taking personal messages? Is he being held incommunicado while he is on Mars?"
The three project directors glanced uneasily at one another. The Russian said, "Once the American government refused to release his interview tape we assumed that he was not to have any contact with the media."
"Far as I know," said the American, "he hasn’t squawked. Hasn’t even asked to send any personal messages, I don’t think."
"No personal communications at all?" Brumado asked. "Not to his family, his friends?"
The Russian shrugged. "Apparently no one has tried to reach him, nor has he attempted to call anyone."
"Not even his parents?"
"Apparently not."
"Why do you ask?" said the Japanese director.
Brumado replied, "I ran into a young woman who says she is a friend of Waterman’s, and she has been denied permission to speak with him."
The American leaned back in his chair again. "I don’t see why she can’t make a tape, like everybody else’s friends and relatives are doing. Then Waterman can decide if he wants to answer her or not. That’s the way we’ve been handling personal messages, what with the time lag and the busy schedule those guys have down on the surface of the planet."
"That makes sense," Brumado said, "I will tell her that."
SOL 13: MORNING
"The computer enhancements prove that your ‘village’ is nothing more than a natural formation of rock," said Ravavishnu Patel.
Jamie shook his head stubbornly. "The enhancements prove nothing of the sort."
"I’m afraid I must agree with Rava," Abdul al-Naguib said. "You are leaping to an erroneous conclusion."
The three men — two geologists and the Egyptian geophysicist — were sitting tensely on spindly stools in front of a computer display screen in the geology lab. The area was partitioned off from the rest of the dome, its shelves cluttered with bare rocks and transparent plastic cases that held core samples and stoppered bottles filled with red soil. A long table set against one partition held analysis equipment and computer modules, their display screens flickering orange and blue, showing curves and graphs of data from the global network of sensors that changed every few moments.
"Look," Jamie said to the others, "the computer enhancement of the videotape shows a nicely enlarged view of that formation. I’m not saying it’s artificial; all I’m saying is that the enhancement really doesn’t prove it’s natural."
"But it cannot be artificial!" Patel insisted. "Even Father DiNardo back in Rome agrees it has to be a natural formation!"
Jamie gave him a stern look. "Rava, science doesn’t work on opinions. We learn by observing, by measuring. For god’s sake, when Galileo first reported seeing sunspots, there were priests in Rome who claimed the spots must have been in his telescope because everybody knew that the sun was perfect and without blemish."
Naguib smiled in a fatherly way. Older than either of the two geologists, he saw himself as the voice of mature wisdom in this emotional debate.
"We have observed," the Egyptian said patiently. "We have measured. Thu most powerful tools we possess toll us that the formation is natural, a formation of rocks and nothing more."
"The evidence says nothing of the sort," Jamie snapped. "You’re looking at the evidence with a bias against it being artificial."
"And you are looking at the same evidence with a bias against it being natural," Patel countered.
"Which proves to me that the evidence is not conclusive," Jamie said.
Naguib asked, "But how could it be artificial? You are presupposing that an intelligent species once existed on Mars and built itself a village — in the same manner that your own ancestors built cliff dwellings? That is so unlikely that it beggars the imagination."
Patel added, "When you make a large claim, you must have strong evidence to back it up."
"Right!" Jamie said. "I agree! We have to go back to Tithonium Chasma and see that formation close up. Go right up to it and put our hands on it."
The Hindu geologist stared at Jamie as if he had uttered blasphemy. "Go there! And what of my excursion to Pavonis Mons? Do you think your make-believe ‘village’ is more important than the Tharsis volcanoes?"
"If that ‘village’ really is artificial, it sure as hell is more important than anything else," Jamie shot back.
"The next thing you know, you will want to go all the way to Acidalia to examine the ‘Face’!"
Photographs from early spacecraft orbiting Mars had found a rock formation that resembled a human face when the sun hit it at the right angle.
"Maybe we’ll have to," Jamie snapped. "But first I want to see if that ‘village’ is natural or artificial."
Naguib raised his hands in a gesture of peacemaking. "Everyone who has examined the enhanced video agrees that the formation must be natural. Just as the ‘Face’ is."
"Science doesn’t work by counting votes," Jamie said, feeling anger rising inside him. "The only way to settle this question is to go back there and see for ourselves."
"It would wreck our schedule," Patel said. "It is entirely unnecessary."
"The hell with the schedule," Jamie said.
"The hell with your ‘village’!" Patel shouted. "The hell with your fantasies!"
Jamie took a deep breath, trying to control his seething temper. Then, "Listen, both of you. Our job here is to seek the truth — and not be afraid of finding it. We’ve got to go back to the canyon."
"No," said Patel, anger simmering in his dark face.
"I’m afraid I must agree with Rava," Naguib said reluctantly. "Our mission here is clearly defined. We are the first scouts, our task is to make the preliminary reconnaissance. We have two other regions scheduled for overland traverses before our forty-nine days are finished. Others will come to study the planet in greater detail on follow-on missions. We are not here to swallow everything in one gulp."
Jamie looked at the two of them. Patel, worried that his excursion to the goddammed volcano might be in jeopardy. Naguib, willing to let others get the glory. Jamie thought that the Egyptian was old enough to become an administrator when they returned to Earth; his days as an active scientist are finished. He’ll go back to Egypt and be a famous man, get a prestigious chair in a university and be solidly fixed for the rest of his life. What the hell does he care?
"What makes you so damned certain there’ll be follow-on missions?" Jamie asked. "If the goddammed politicians have their way we’ll be the last expedition to Mars as well as the first one."