Wei had pulled the plug!
They couldn’t help him if they didn’t know what he was doing. Not that they could be sure they could assist in any meaningful way in any case, but the option to even try had just been taken away from them.
And Tung didn’t like that at all.
Wei’s behavior was born of necessity, but also stank of rebellion.
It’s almost the act of a Renegade!
Yong leaned back in his chair, banging his hands down on his desk with a thump. With a curse, he declared, “In a few hours, we’ll have more chance of working out if that old vampire, Putin, is still alive in the Kremlin than knowing if Wei lives!”
Tung stepped back and took a deep breath.
The remainder of the Command Room staff looked on in silence, understanding that Wei had killed the link.
Finally, with a sigh, Commander Tung said, “Well, we all know Putin is still in the Kremlin, the only question is if the dictator can still draw breath.”
The Russian president hadn’t been seen in public for over a decade, but he was still officially president.
Tung continued, “Wei’s the favorite in a bet on who is still alive out of the two, but only for now. By sunrise, not only will Wei’s power be running low, so will be his life support in the survival tent and suit. He’s won’t see a second sunrise.”
Yong nodded, still disappointed to have his video feeds cut.
Tung turned the remaining options over in his mind, but having had no response from Beijing limited his scope.
Or does it?
He realized their silence meant some options were still open simply because they hadn’t been ruled out yet.
Perhaps it was time for him to do something rebellious himself?
He cleared his throat and commanded, “Get the techs to prep one of the new drones. I want one of the long-range hubs ready to go out there and give us back our eyes.”
Yong grinned, snapping, “Yes, sir!”
Chapter 13
Yanjiang Er (Base Five Two), Mars
Wei ran down the gully into the Martian night.
At first, he barely noticed the extra rocks and dirt on the path showing up under the light of the stars and moonlight of Phobos as the small moon shone overhead, but soon, even in his state of panic, there was so many rocks and tons of tumbled rubble that he had to slow down or risk tripping.
That was when he became conscious of passing pieces of bright blue, white, and silver debris. He stopped, first checking behind himself to see if the airlock was still closed, and then he turned back to look down the gully, letting his gaze meander towards the basin.
A huge impact crater lay out there, probably ten kilometers away and with a rim a hundred or so meters high. The dim light of night had obscured it from him, as had his panic, but now that he had stopped and looked, the damage was undeniable.
This was what had killed his squad.
But he had survived it.
Ejected debris lay scattered right across the ancient basin with sections of buckled and uplifted bedrock scarred by fresh cracks and faults. The landscape had been completely rearranged. And, he realized, the debris must have taken out the reactor, as there was no sign of it. The solar array was also missing, lost under the new debris field.
With a sinking feeling, even as he noted steam and vapor rising in wisps from the crater, his focus dropped to something much closer; the spread of debris in a range of colors. Colors that their camo protocols insisted should not be left out on the surface.
His gaze followed the scattered trail of debris, pursuing it as its spread became thicker where the gully opened up as it reached the old basin. There, just around the end of the gully, was where the first section of flat terrain lay inside the ancient crater—and looked to be the source of the colorful ruin.
The two landers.
Wei cursed as he hurried down to them.
The closest lander still stood, but had a huge chunk of Martian rock wedged right through its heart. The landers stood four floors high, and this rock looked as though it had managed to hole all of them while also destroying the lander’s precious cargo.
That was the factory lander.
Wei followed the path around out of the gully, moving fast, hoping he would soon see the crew lander standing tall and intact. But as he came around the ruin of the first, with a sinking heart, he saw the other lander toppled over and buckled.
Sections of the hull and been holed by dozens of projectiles from the last impact.
What am I going to do?
He still needed to check the landers out. He might not be able to use them as pressurized living quarters, but there would be salvage.
But he needed a pressurized space. He couldn’t live in a suit. Not for days on end. He would need a pressurized space to change and eat. And he would also need to recharge, service, and access his life support.
Slowly, he turned back to look up the gully to the airlock.
The window was dimly lit, light shining through from the inside where he had left the grow lights on.
He shivered, as if he had seen Dog standing there looking out.
But that hadn’t been real…
…or had it?
Dog couldn’t be up there.
But if he isn’t, then what did I see?
Was it just the hit he had taken to his head, spinning him out?
Or had he imagined the whole thing?
Wei realized he was just winding himself up.
He could go up there and disable the airlock, which would make him feel better, and then come back down and begin his search for worthwhile salvage.
And, if he couldn’t work out how to create a pressurized shelter out here on the surface or in the ruins of one of the landers, then he might need to go back to the lava tube and face whatever he had seen in any case.
I might not have a choice.
Wei took a deep breath, his gaze locked on the distant airlock.
He made a decision, whispering quietly to himself, “Forgive me, Dog. I don’t know what I saw, but I can’t work down here while worrying that you’re going to come after me.”
He took a deep breath, flicked off his helmet lights, and then headed back up the path to the lava tube under Phobos’s light.
The closer he got, the more he crouched down and left the path, stepping through dust and leaving prints as he tried to keep out of the airlock window’s field of view.
As he neared the lava tube, he moved more cautiously, until he reached the thick wall of baked regolith the robots had built. There were several layers to it, and while he could see the hole punched through, the wall still stood robust and strong in spite of the hit.
He hurried past the hole, fearful the hand of a dead comrade might somehow reach through and grab him, and then pull him inside. But he made it to the airlock, although he crouched low so he was well below the window.
If Dog was in there, on the other side, he could not see him.
Wei’s heart hammered in his chest, setting off a red warning light on his helmet display.
Slowly, he took a series of deep breaths, trying to calm himself.
He figured all he had to do was use a locking code to disable the airlock. The codes were used during emergencies and maintenance, too. He could lock it with his ID number, and then leave it.
But what if he was imagining all this and Dog was alright, or worse, alive but in need of help?
He reminded himself; if it had been Dog, then his squad brother had been standing up exposed to Mars’ atmosphere with no helmet.
It wasn’t possible.
The vision was either a figment of his imagination, brought on by the knock to his head, or caused by the stress related to the calamity he had endured.
His squad brother was in no need of rescue.
Dog was dead.