Ghost of an Opportunity
A Ragnarok Saga Story
Kevin McLaughlin
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Author’s Notes
Afterword
Other Books by Kevin McLaughlin
About the Author
One
My battery was low and it was getting dark.
Now on Mars, either one of those things would be a major problem. Your battery was your life, after all. Without power, you didn’t have heat or air or a number of other things that made life possible on a barren rock with almost no atmosphere. Night time wasn’t quite such a big deal, except that it was a lot harder to get around when you couldn’t see well enough to know if that was a rock or a pit in front of you.
Yeah, either one was bad news. But put together, it added up to one thing: I was in a lot of trouble, and if I didn’t act soon there’d end up being a brand new memorial for Captain Jasper Stein, deceased astronaut and winner of the newest Martian Darwin Award.
It was my own fault. Scouting missions were risky at the best of times. You are out there driving your buggy an hour or more away from the nearest help. If anything went wrong, the scout was entirely on his own. It wasn’t a job for the timid, but that wasn’t my problem. No, I’d broken the cardinal rule of surviving Mars: never go anywhere alone.
Sandy — that’s Dr. Sandra Harlow, xenogeologist, to anyone who wasn’t a drinking buddy — had a hangover from doing a little bit too much celebrating the night before. She was supposed to be out on the mission, co-pilot for our two-person scout team. Except she wasn’t in any shape to be out and about. The shape she was in, Sandy would be more of a liability than a help. I didn’t want her to get in trouble, though, so I covered for her.
I didn’t tell them I was going out solo.
Hey, it was supposed to be an easy cruise. We were still exploring the terrain. I’d drive out for four hours, do some measurements and surveying along the way, and then come back. Twelve hours, tops. What could possibly go wrong?
I knew that we lost people every now and then, but I never thought I would be one of them. I was too careful. Well, most of the time I was, anyway. I thought I was too good to get in trouble. At least, any trouble that I couldn't get myself out of. But when things go bad, sometimes all you can do is hold on tight and hope you come out the other side. In my case, getting out the other side was looking less likely the minute.
Going out solo was my own damned fault, but the accident was just that. I was driving along the top of a ridge, and I should have been far enough from the edge. But all of a sudden the dirt was breaking up underneath the wheels of my rover. It tilted, almost in slow motion, and I tried everything I could think of to right the vehicle before I slid down the side of the ridge. Nothing I did worked. Then I was spinning, toppling end over end as the vehicle rolled down the hill. I hit my head during the fall and didn’t remember the rest of the drop. Good thing I’d been strapped in, or I probably wouldn’t have survived at all.
When I came to I discovered that I was wedged halfway down a fissure at the bottom of the ravine. The good news was, I hadn't fallen all the way down. The bad news was that I couldn't see how far away the bottom was. I shined a flashlight out the passenger side window into the darkness below. My light wouldn't reach a bottom, which only told me it was a very long way down. The rover's metal frame groaned every time I shifted my weight. It wasn't wedged in as tightly as I would have liked. In fact, I had a sneaking suspicion the whole thing could drop the rest of the way to the bottom at any moment.
I had to get out of there or I was going to end up as a Martian pancake. That meant I had to make the climb back to the top. I peeked out the driver’s side window. Way up there I could see the open sky, but daylight was already starting to fade. Hard as the climb would be with light it would be almost impossible after full darkness fell.
With careful movements I reached behind my seat for the emergency supplies every rover carried. I would have given just about anything in that moment for rope, or any sort of climbing gear. For whatever reason, Mission Control hadn't seen fit to supply us with that sort of gear. I suppose they figured that if we needed rope we were already in so much trouble that saving ourselves was unlikely at best. Or hell, maybe it was just left out because of budget cuts.
I didn't know, and it didn't matter just then. I could complain about it later if I lived through this mess. All I had with me was what they’d put in that emergency pack: a radio, a pop-up shelter, some food and water, and a basic first aid kit. All of it tucked to into a single easy to carry bag. I slung the bag's strap over my shoulder and looked around to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.
The rover's emergency beacon was already buzzing away, although I didn't think the signal would be able to reach anyone. I'd fallen too deep into the ravine for radio waves to easily escape. But it was a least something. If I died out here, they would eventually find the rover, and from there piece together everything else that had happened.
That wasn't of much use to me, though. I wasn't expected back for at least six more hours. My suit only had enough air for about four. No help for it.
Shoving those thoughts away for the moment, I made sure all the seals on my suit were solid and gently eased the rover's door open. Sitting still wasn’t going to make things any better, but I kept moving as slowly as I could. No sense rocking the boat, so to speak.
Our rovers were something like an SUV, but with six wheels and a much lighter frame. I slowly eased myself from the wreck. Standing on the side of my buggy as its metal frame groaned beneath my feet and red dust sprinkled down on me from above, I found myself wishing my ride had been a little bigger and meaner. A good old-fashioned Humvee would never have fallen down this narrow crack in the first place.
It was only ten meters from where I stood to the surface. Daylight and freedom were just waiting for me up there. But the climb standing between me and escape was one of the most daunting things I'd ever seen.
Two
No time like the present! I reached up for my first handhold, a rock the size of a baseball jutting out of the cliff in front of me at just over my head height. My fingers closed over it, clumsy in the suit’s gloves, but I thought I had a good grip. I tested my weight on the rock, pulling hard to see if it would hold.
It came away in a shower of sand that cascaded all over my faceplate before slithering down into the rover. I was left holding the rock in my hand, staring at a hole where it had been. That wasn’t especially useful, and didn’t speak well about the overall stability of this wall. I tossed the rock away, far enough that it wouldn’t hit the buggy. No sense giving Murphy any more chances to intervene!
Then I reached up again, sliding my fingers into the hole left behind by the rock. This time, I managed to hang on. I pulled myself up, looking for another handhold. There, a slim crack in the wall! It was big enough to slip my fingers inside. My feet scrabbled for something to support my weight for a moment and then got traction. It was a start, but I was very glad Mars had less gravity than Earth! I hadn’t been rock climbing since college, and I was way out of practice. Even back then, I probably would have taken a pass on a ten-meter free climb. No ropes? No way.
No choices, in this case. I reached again, scrambling up another foot higher. The crack went about two more meters. I used it as one grip, keeping the fingers of my glove wedged inside. The rock surface was so cold that I was starting to feel it even through the insulation around my fingers, and I wiggled them to keep the circulation going. If my hand
went numb I’d be in for a quick trip back down again.
Three meters up and still going strong. I was starting to get the hang of this, and the lower gravity was way more of a help than I’d expected. Mars only has about two-thirds the mass of Earth, so I only weighed about a hundred and twenty pounds there. My muscles were still used to dealing with the full hundred and eighty. I hadn’t been on Mars long enough to lose much strength yet.
No more crack meant the fourth meter was harder going. I managed to find one handhold and then another, heaving myself up a little more. I’d almost reached the halfway mark and was starting to think I might make it out of this pit after all.
Of course, it’s when you think things are going well that Murphy has to show up again and tell you that you’re not out of the woods just yet.
My hand grabbed for one more handhold, the one that would kick me up to about the halfway mark. I shifted my weight to that hand and it happened. The rock I’d gripped wasn’t actually stone. It was compressed sand, and as soon as I put stress on it the whole thing crumbled away into dust. I tried to hold on with my other hand, but I had too much momentum. I peeled off the cliff, my left arm swinging out over the void, my left leg inevitably following. There was no way I could hang on.
Then I was falling again.
I slammed into the side of the rover with a crash. The taste of copper filled my mouth, and my vision was full of stars. Everything hurt, but not so much that it felt like I’d broken anything. I slowly eased my way back to a sitting position, taking stock of my situation.
Nothing broken, but my right ankle hurt like hell. I must have twisted it when I landed. Other than that I had a good scattering of bruises, but seemed pretty much OK. I got back to my feet, brushing away dust and testing how much weight I could place on my injured ankle. The answer was some, but it hurt every time I did.
Underneath my feet, the buggy groaned, a loud, screeching noise that sounded like metal grinding against something. It shifted, slipping down a few inches. Shit, I’d jostled it enough from my fall that it was starting to move again! I held myself motionless, hoping that it would stop moving, and it did.
I sucked in a deep breath and eased my way toward the wall. One step, then two, I was getting closer. One hand reached out to that hollow spot where the rock had been. My fingers slipped inside the hole.
Just in time, too. All at once the rover groaned one more time beneath me. Then it was moving, dropping away. I saw sparks flying from it all the way down. It was at least another ten meters below me to the bottom of the fissure, and I was hanging onto the wall with one hand, dangling there and looking down stupidly. I’d almost joined the vehicle in that tumble. It had been that close, and I was shaking from reaction of the near death.
“Get it together, Jasper,” I grumbled to myself. That could still be my fate. It would be my fate if I didn’t grab a better hold of the wall. With a grunt I slid my fingers back into the crack I’d used before and grounded my feet against the cliff.
Seemed like I’d just been doing this climb! Well, at least the second time up I already knew where all the good holds were. The first half was easy because of that. I just followed the same track I’d already used. But I still had five meters of climbing to go when I ran out of familiar territory, and my right ankle was throbbing.
I glanced upward, scanning the cliff. If I lost my grip again, that would be it. No way I was going to survive dropping fifteen meters, at least not intact. My suit would break along with my bones, and if I didn’t die instantly I’d surely go soon after. The answer was don’t fall again, dummy. I needed to be careful and move slowly, but my limbs were getting tired from all the work they were doing.
Despite the growing exhaustion I felt, I kept moving upward at a snail’s pace. Every hold was tested before I put weight on it. It was excruiciating, and I was starting to wonder if it wouldn’t be easier just to give up and let myself fall. It was probably what would happen anyway. My arms couldn’t hold out much longer.
“Bullshit. I am not giving up that easy,” I growled. Somehow, talking out loud made it better. Hearing something, even if it was just my own voice, took my mind off the agony of the climb for a minute.
“Just get to the top, radio for help, and I’ll be taking a warm shower in no time,” I said, keeping the banter going.
Of course, I’d get the shit for busting up a rover. There wasn’t much excuse. I’d gone out solo, and protecting a coworker from getting in trouble wasn’t going to be seen as a valid reason for breaking the rules. I’d take whatever licks they wanted to dish out. Getting my ass back to base was my mission, now. Everything else could be dealt with later.
My fingers went reaching for another handhold and felt nothing. I looked up again and saw sky. I was almost to the top of the fissure! Another few feet and I could climb over the edge. With deliberate care I eased my body up higher. One foothold up, support my weight on that foot and boost. Both hands over the top. Step up again, and now my elbows were over the edge. Scrabbling against the side of the fissure with my boots, I pushed with my arms and slowly hauled myself, panting, out of the hole that had almost been my grave.
I lay there for a while before I could move again. My fingers had begun going numb toward the end of the climb, but now that they weren’t making hard contact with icy rock, the suit’s heater was slowly warming them back up again. Blood flooded back into muscles which were all screaming in unison that they were extremely angry with this sort of treatment. But I’d made it over the edge. I was out of the hole and home free.
Or so I thought.
Three
When I was finally able to move without my arms shaking too much, I rolled over onto my belly and pushed myself back up into a sitting position. This hadn’t been a fun trip, but at least it was almost over. I yanked the bag off my shoulder and unzipped it. It wasn’t until I reached inside that I realized something was very wrong.
Instead of being loose in the bag, everything was all clumped together. I peered into the bag to figure out what happened.
The emergency water ration was stored in an insulated bag, so that it wouldn’t freeze. But when I fell, I must have landed on the bag. The water had burst, splashing its contents all over. Mars was so cold the water had frozen right away. My food rations and more importantly the radio were all locked together in a solid block of ice.
I managed to pry the block of ice free from the bag and plunked it on my lap. It didn’t look good. The ice was all over the radio. But hey, it was an emergency radio! Those things were drop tested like mad, because they had to survive nasty events or they wouldn’t be any good in a real emergency.
The real question was how quickly the water froze. If it went solid right away, then the radio was probably fine. I chipped the ice away, hoping that it had flash frozen almost instantly. If the water got into the radio, I was toast.
Finally I had enough ice free that I could get to the controls on the device. I extended the antenna and flipped the power on.
Nothing happened.
I ran every diagnostic I could think of, testing the battery, turning it on and off. I even tried hooking it up to my suit’s power, just in case it was only a power issue. No luck. The radio was a brick. Apparently no one had bothered making the emergency radios sent to a desert planet waterproof.
“Great. Just wonderful!” I screamed into the air. I tossed the radio to the ground. What I wanted to do was smash the thing into a million pieces, but that wasn’t going to help me any, and there was always a chance it would come back to life again. Not a great chance, but I could hope.
The food and pop-up shelter were both still all right, but the water wasn’t drinkable without thawing first. I tossed the ice back into the bag anyway, along with everything else. Even the stupid radio. Never knew when something there might be important.
Not that I was going to die of dehydration. My suit’s battery would run out way before that, and it would be a toss-up whether I froze to death o
r asphyxiated. Neither was a fate I looked forward to.
“Better keep moving,” I said to myself.
First step to getting rescued would be to get closer. If I could somehow walk far enough back, maybe the short-range radio in my suit would reach someone. It was worth a shot. I looked around, trying to get my bearings in the the fading daylight.
There was the ridge I’d tumbled from. I saw at once what happened. The whole thing was made of sand underneath a thin shell of hardened sandstone. When I drove the rover over it, the sandstone broke up and then it was all over but the rolling down the dune.
I worked my way back to the top. It was a struggle, climbing up there, but once I found my tracks I could follow them back the way I’d come. I’d at least be going in the direction of home base, then.
The tracks were right where I’d left them. I saw where they came apart, where my vehicle had tumbled over sideways. But beyond that the tracks continued into the distance. I could follow them like a trail of breadcrumbs.
“No sense waiting around here,” I said. Which was true. I mean, you always hear that if you’re lost the best bet is to stay put. That’s even true, a lot of the time. If I stuck around, they’d undoubtedly find me. By the time they did I wasn’t going to be alive for them to rescue, though.
I started off on the trail toward home. My right ankle was already aching every time I put weight on it, turning my hike into more of a limping walk than I wanted. Running was out of the question. Not only was my ankle not up to it, but the exertion would just cause my CO2 scrubber to work overtime and drain the battery even faster.
Even with the injury, the first mile wasn’t so bad. I made what I felt was good time. There was a brief patch where the rover had gone over solid rock for a short while. I had to guess where the tracks would be, and it took a little hunting to find them again. Once I did I was on my way once more.
Ghost of an Opportunity Page 1
