Regardless of whichever it was, he wasn’t going to let this woman be sacrificed for the sake of his ego. He’d been a self-centered fool for trying this, ignoring the effect his own actions would have on others. When they got to Rescue Point (not if, but when!) he was going to call his father and grandfather and then tell them to get the hell out of his life. That’s what he was going to do!
The subtle changes in Olympus Mons’s surface came and went as Taylor drove into the long Martian night. He pushed the speed as high as he dared, balancing the need for speed against the need for safety, always running at the limits of his headlights. When morning came, he hoped, he’d be able to go faster. The night wore on as the red dot crept farther and farther from the planned yellow line, going straight down the mountain.
Morning brought the rising of the singularly bright star that was the Sun. The thickening atmosphere scattered her golden rays across a clear, deep violet sky. That color would change as they descended. At this time of year, when the dust storms swept the central latitudes, the sky down on the plains was usually a dusty rose at the horizon, fading to yellow-brown overhead.
The ground was becoming rough; dotted with scattered boulders that threatened to tilt the bike over more than once. There was a slippery coating of dust over the smooth, hard rock that made the steering treacherous.
Taylor hadn’t imagined that he could get exhausted so quickly. He’d been running for sixteen hours since the accident and was starting to tire from the strain. Surely it was the adrenaline-pumped tension of watching the landscape for axle-breaking potholes, rocks that could capsize them, and sudden dips and cracks too small to have shown up on the photomaps but still large enough to catch a wheel and give them a nasty, deadly spill. Lord, he wished he’d paid more attention to the smaller details.
“How are you doing?” he asked over the intercom. Surra had been silent for hours. He hoped that she was resting, conserving their precious oxygen supply.
“Isn’t easy to rest. Arm hurts every time you hit a bump.”
“Sorry. Do you want me to get back on the main highway?” he joked.
“Naw, let’s enjoy the scenic route instead,” she replied. There was a long silence. “Taylor,” she said at last, “it just might be true, you know.”
“What is?”
“This jinx thing. I mean, first Ed’s death, all the bad luck Sid and I had, then there was Gaspar’s accident.” She explained the source of her nickname in a few terse, emotionless sentences. “Two dead partners sort of sets the pattern, don’t it? Now it looks as if you’ll be another one added to my score. Hell, maybe I’ll be the final entry myself—a fitting finish, wouldn’t you say, kid?”
When he didn’t reply she continued. “Then there’s my sister. Every time I try to help her she gets into more trouble than before. Shit; she lost the mine because I didn’t give her enough money to cover the debt.”
“Was that your fault or hers? I mean, if you were helping her, why was it your fault?”
Surra was silent as she considered his words. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve always felt responsible for her, like I had to protect her after dad and mom died. ’Course, she didn’t pay me much mind when she married that damned no-count husband.”
“So she has a husband as well? Lord, Surra, why do you take so much on yourself? Sounds to me as if you’ve been the smart one in a bunch of astoundingly selfish people.”
“Hey, that’s my family you’re talking about,” she laughed. “Yeah, I know you’re right, but what can I do? They’re family.”
It was Taylor’s turn to laugh. “Family! Boy, do I know that. Easy for me to tell you to separate yourself while I can’t do it myself. Gramps and pop still control me.”
“I think you love them as much as I do my sister,” Surra suggested.
“Yeah, you may be right.” Strange that he had never thought of it that way. Love—what an idea.
There was an occasional puff of dust that indicated that they were in an appreciable atmosphere at last, at least enough to support a light wind. It still wouldn’t do them much good, considering that Mars reference level atmospheric pressure was close to a vacuum as far as they were concerned—and they were still far above a reference level that was only 1 percent of Earth normal.
The edge of a wide fissure appeared ahead. “Wake up, Surra,” he shouted over the intercom. “Here it comes.”
“I see it,” she replied. “God, it looks bigger than I thought!”
“Where’s the best spot to go down?” he asked as they raced toward the edge.
“The sides are really steep,” she said slowly, as if trying to remember. “Nearly sixty degrees most of the way. There’s a more gentle slope up ahead, but the bottom’s pretty tight there. We could get stuck.”
“Not much of a choice,” Taylor replied. “Let’s chance the steep grades and try to keep from tilting over.”
“Whatever looks good to you,” she said. He could hear the edge of fear in her voice.
“This spot looks as good as any,” Taylor said and turned the bike.
The lip passed beneath the nose of the bike and, for a heart-stopping instant, all he could see was the distant, opposite bank and the huge emptiness that loomed beneath. The nose of the bike dipped sickeningly onto the steep slope.
Then they were racing pell-mell down the slope, the walls of the canyon whipping by at ferocious speed as the bike rocked from side to side. There was a sickening lurch to the left and, as the bottom rushed up, he fought the steering yoke to keep the bike upright.
The impact slammed him against the side of the cradle, making him see stars. Surra screamed over the intercom.
“Are you all right? Still with me?” Taylor shouted as he fought the wheel.
Surra cursed in a steady stream for long minutes. “You did remember that there are brakes on this bike, didn’t you?” she said nastily.
“Now where do we go?” he demanded. “Come on, we’ve only got a few hours left!”
“There’s a grade you should be able to climb about four klicks ahead. The bottom is pretty smooth up to that point.”
“This is smooth?” Taylor answered incredulously as the bike shook and rattled its way along the rock-strewn bottom.
They were making a steady ten klicks, hardly a good walking pace, but necessary if they were to avoid the larger rocks. Taylor grew impatient at their slow progress.
“How about there?” he said suddenly and turned the bike toward the far wall.
“Wait!” Surra exclaimed as Taylor blasted the bike up the hill.
The front wheel dropped over the lip as the bike started to drop. All that Taylor could see was the emptiness beneath the bike’s nose. The bike rocked back and forth on the knife edge. He had managed to brake in time to avoid a fifty-meter vertical drop.
“Don’t… ever… do… that… again!” Surra panted.
“Yes ma’am,’ he replied, trembling with fear of their close call, and threw up in his face mask.
After cautiously returning to the bottom, they carefully crept along to the five hundred meter slope Surra had mentioned. It ran up to the plain on a breathtakingly steep angle.
“The only way out is to traverse it,” he said after studying the bank for a few minutes. “Cut back and forth.”
“Can you do that without tipping us over?” Surra asked with a worried note in her voice.
“I think so. The wide track of the wheels and low center of gravity should hold us to the slope. Turns will be a bit touchy, though. Hell, can’t be worse than climbing the fissures on Io.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked without hesitation. “Let’s go for it.”