The Imperative Chronicles, Books One and Two: The Mars Imperative & The Tesserene Imperative

by Mark Terence Chapman

  Quick—think! What’s the procedure for surviving a rockslide?

  Hell if I know!

  All right, think logically. Turn the wheel and point the nose downhill. There’s less chance of being flipped than if you go down sideways. There’s no point in using the brakes; the ground’s moving, too.

  As his thoughts raced furiously, he desperately yanked the wheel left and right trying to keep the Cat upright and pointed downhill. He did take the split second necessary to slam his helmet faceplate shut, just in case.

  What about accelerating, trying to get ahead of the flow? No, too dangerous with the surface shifting like this, Besides, with all the dust in the air, I can’t see a damn thing! Better to go with the flow and ride it out.

  The plummet continued for minute after terrifying minute. James knew it was kilometers to the bottom, but there was no way to estimate distance without stable landmarks, and the odometer wasn’t going to be much help with the ground moving.

  The exertion and adrenaline rush caused James’ body temperature to rise. Sweat soaked his scalp and then ran down into his eyes, making it hard to see. There was no way he could wipe his eyes with his helmet sealed, but he wasn’t about to let go of the wheel again anyway.

  As the internal temperature of his suit increased, the automatic systems attempted to compensate, which only made James feel cold and clammy.

  Man, I’m gonna reek when I get back—if I get back.

  Suddenly, the rubble in front of James came to an abrupt stop, arrested by a small ridge in the canyon basin. But the material kept hurtling down the steep incline, threatening to bury the Cat if it stopped moving even for an instant.

  Here’s my chance! I still can’t see anything ahead, but…. James gunned both the front and rear motors and the Cat surged ahead, using the debris piled up against the ridge like a ski jump and leaping high over the obstruction in the light gravity. He mentally crossed his fingers.

  The Cat hit hard on the other side. It landed off-center and bounced lopsidedly, momentarily wrenching the wheel from James’ grasp. He recovered control a hairsbreadth from disaster.

  Stones and sand pelted the Cat as James made a run for it. The landside seemed to pursue him with malevolent intent. Once, a huge chunk of rock slammed into the top of the cab, denting it noticeably. James cringed at the thought of what the boulder would have done to his unprotected head.

  Thanks, Cat. I owe you one.

  The onslaught of debris cartwheeling down the hillside buffeted the vehicle from side to side. To compound James’ difficulties, the Cat also bucked like a wild mustang as it went up and over slower moving debris.

  Then, shockingly, it was all over. James had somehow managed to outrun the tide. He swiveled his head wildly, looking for anything about to crush him. Nothing moved but a few small stones still dribbling down the hillside.

  James stopped the Cat and looked back, heart pounding. It seemed like the entire slope had come down with him.

  “Jesus Bartholomew Christ!” How did I ever get out of that mess in one piece?

  He took a deep, relieved breath. What difference does it make? All that matters is I’m alive.

  He closed his eyes for a minute, letting his triphammer heartbeat return to normal.

  I’d better check out the Cat and make sure it’s still in one piece. He drove the rig ahead to a relatively clear patch of ground and got out to assess the damage.

  It could be worse. There doesn’t appear to be any structural damage, but Jankowski’s going to have my hide for banging it up like that. There’s hardly a centimeter that hasn’t been dented or scraped up. I’ve lost an air cylinder, but I brought plenty, so that shouldn’t be a problem.

  James reached out to pat the side of the vehicle that had just saved his life, then quickly stuck his hand under his other armpit to quell the trembling.

  Adrenaline—it’s just adrenaline. Don’t sweat it. It doesn’t mean you’re a coward. Anyone would get the shakes in this situation. He took a moment to let the trembling stop before continuing the inspection.

  At least the antenna’s still intact this time. I won’t be able to use it much, but it’s good to know it works, just in case. As deep as this canyon is, the satellites will be out of reach most of the time. That won’t give me much of a chance to call for help if I need it. Still, I’d better not need it. Even Base Camp 6 is a day’s drive away. If anything goes seriously wrong, I could easily die out here before rescue arrives.

  My, we are getting morbid in our old age, aren’t we? All right. I’m here and I’m in one piece. That’s the important thing. Just locate the big X on the map and start digging for buried treasure.

  Hey, great idea! “Avast me hearties! Let’s set sail before it gets dark. We don’t want to get caught at anchor if’n a storm approaches. After all, dead men tell no tales.”

  “Aye, aye, cap’n! Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum.”

  I wonder where I can get me a parrot…or some rum? “Arrrr!” James chuckled.

  “Oh, brother. I’ve been here two minutes and already I’m talking to myself—and answering! This is gonna be a long two weeks.”

  * * * *

  James proceeded along the canyon floor to the designated area. It looked no different from most of that section of the canyon: rust and dark-gray granite-like rock that revealed episodes of tectonism, volcanic activity, and igneous intrusion billions of years in the past—exactly the sort of rock that produced beryl ore.

  There also was evidence of more recent weathering by water—perhaps a mere tens of millions of years ago—and by wind, continuing into the present. The canyon walls had collapsed in numerous places, exposing deeper sections of the rock face. Between the sand dunes and the rubble, the canyon floor was a difficult place to maneuver. The deep shadows cast by the canyon walls this far below the surface of Mars only magnified the problem. The Cat’s high-intensity lamps dispelled the gloom up close, but did nothing for the view at a distance.

  James looked forward to the search for beryl. A geologist never knew when he might find traces of metallic beryllium or valuable gemstones. The latter weren’t specifically what James was looking for—Earth needed beryllium for industry much more than it needed gemstones—but gems were still highly prized by the rich and famous; especially for the cachet afforded genuine Martian gems. As a result, the bonuses for finding them made it worth the effort. Not to mention the generous finder’s fee for discovering a new mine.

  And what about tesserene? That would really be hitting the jackpot! No one’s ever found any on a planet—just asteroids. The stuff forms too deep in a planet’s crust to reach it from the surface. But Hell, this canyon is so deep it’s just possible. I’ll have to keep an eye out for indications of theta-band radiation.

  He chuckled. Tesserene. Right. Let’s not go overboard here. Beryl would be pretty darn good itself. Get your head out of the nonexistent clouds and back down to earth—or in this case, Mars.

  Time to get to work. I guess I’d better call base before I get too involved.

  “Base Camp 9, this is James McKie checking in. Over.”

  “I read you loud and clear, James. Where are you now?”

  “I just reached my objective. I’m going to set up camp and get to work while there’s still some daylight. There isn’t much light down here to begin with, especially along the canyon walls.”

  “What do you expect? You’re what, seven, eight klicks deep? That’s a lot of shadow.”

  “You’re telling me. We’re going to lose the connection any minute, so I’d better wrap up. What’s the latest weather forecast?”

  “It’s not good. It looks like you’ve got about forty-five to forty-six hours until it hits. The storm’s picking up intensity—it’s a big one: over a thousand klicks across. And it’s a mean one. I know you’re taught that the atmosphere, even now, is still only eight percent as thick as on Earth, and it’s easy to assume that it can’t hurt you. But believe me, it’s thick enough to whi
p sand and dust and small pebbles around at up to eighty KPH. That’s enough to do some damage if you get caught outside. Make sure you’re safely inside the Cat when the storm hits. Got it?”

  “Don’t worry, Joe; I’ll protect myself. James out.”

  Whew! That storm’s moving. I’m definitely going to find a hole to crawl into before it hits.

  * * * *

  James quickly threw himself into his work. He scoured the slope, taking samples and storing them for later analysis. Late into the evening he worked, under artificial light, until he was too exhausted to do any more than stow his gear and climb onto a cot in the passenger compartment. The next day was a carbon copy of the last.

  I’ve got to get as much done as possible before the storm hits so I have enough to keep me busy while it’s raging. I don’t want to be cooped up in the Cat for days with nothing to do.

  The morning of the third day dawned with clear skies. James was greeted with a rare treat: wispy ice clouds high in the atmosphere, glittering in the sunlight. It’s hard to believe there’s a storm coming.

  Hours later, James sealed his umpteenth vial of the day. He frowned intently over his task. Some of these samples show promise. Keep your fingers crossed.

  Then something flickered in the corner of his eye. He looked up. Nothing. That’s strange. I could have sworn….

  He resumed marking the label of the vial. Again, he caught a flicker and looked up. This time he saw a meter-high dust devil dancing merrily to his left.

  Hey, look at that! I haven’t seen one of those since…the last dust storm! Jesus! What time is it? He snatched a look at his heads-up display. Damn! I should have buttoned up an hour ago! Why didn’t I set an alarm?

  The western end of the canyon was already an angry red-brown, obscuring the distinction between sky and canyon wall. James grabbed his gear and began stuffing it in his case as quickly as possible, dropping tools and empty vials in his haste.

  Get a grip James! You’ve still got a few minutes ‘til the storm gets here. Take your time and get it right.

  He forced himself to slow down and make sure everything was accounted for and packed away safely. No sense being hasty and losing or breaking something important. He quickly finished and stood up.

  James turned to face the Cat and found himself looking at a wall of brick-red, racing inexorably in his direction. It was only a few hundred meters beyond the Cat. Christ! It’ll be here any second.

  EVA suits aren’t designed for running, nor was the slope from which James had to descend, yet he put himself into high gear nonetheless. His loping, leaping gait wasn’t pretty, but it covered considerable ground in the low gravity. He looked up to judge his progress. No more than ten meters to go. The storm was still a hundred-plus meters away.

  It looks like I’ll make it with seconds to spare.

  As if heeding Joe’s admonition of “famous last words,” James tripped and flew forward and down, tumbling ass-over-elbows and losing his case in the process. He landed on his chest with a thud, crushing the wind from his lungs.

  Where’s the case?

  It was three meters to his left. He scrabbled to his feet, gasping for air, and grabbed the case. The entrance to the cab was off to his right, but it was already too late.

  The maelstrom was upon him.

  CHAPTER 16

  Martian Geography: Dust Storm—The thin Martian soil can be scooped up by high winds to create dust storms that sweep across plains and through canyons. These storms sometimes last for weeks and envelop much of the planet. Due to the thin atmosphere, the winds do not pack enough force to directly injure humans caught outside in a storm. Nonetheless, fourteen men and women have lost their lives in the century since mankind began mining operations on the planet: nine in accidents caused by the loss of visibility in red-out conditions and five by suffocation while waiting out the storm.

  — Excerpt from Encyclopedia Solaris, 2176

  * * * *

  Instantly, James dropped to the bottom of an ocean of deepest ocher. There was no Cat; there was no case in his hand; there was no hand on the end of his forearm. Beyond his helmet was only swirling dust. James raised his left arm to prove by its weight that he did indeed still carry the case, even if he couldn’t see it. The static charge created by the dust particles rubbing together kept the dust aloft longer than the thin atmosphere and low gravity alone would have permitted, thickening the veil. The static also caused some of the finest dust to stick to his faceplate, further reducing visibility no matter how often he wiped at it with his glove. The dark shadow by the canyon wall only intensified the gloom.

  Mostly, the wind plucked at his suit. As thin as the atmosphere was it carried little real strength, unlike gale-force winds on Earth. On the other hand, he weighed only thirty-eight percent of what he did on Earth. Even in the attenuated atmosphere, the stronger gusts could knock him off-balance on the uneven ground if he weren’t careful.

  How could I be so stupid as to lose track of time with a monster storm coming? What an idiot!

  He took a deep calming breath. All right. I know the Cat is only a few meters away, and I know the general direction. If I crawl and take my time I should be able to find it. Once I touch any part of it I can work my way around to the cab and then drive the Cat in closer to the rock wall as shelter. There’s a pile of rubble on the other side of the Cat. That should help shield it from the worst of the storm.

  James headed for the vehicle. He crawled on all fours, swinging the case ahead of him hoping to hit the Cat.

  This is eerie. I can feel the case in my hand, but I can’t see it. After twenty minutes of this, he began to sweat.

  I should have reached it long before now. It wasn’t that far away. I must have drifted off to my right and crawled past it. Now what do I do?

  For a moment, James let himself steep in self-pity as the storm continued to intensify around him. I’m going to die out here, alone. I’ll never see my parents again. I’ll never see Janice again. Why didn’t I just use my brain?

  The moment passed. James mentally shook off the self-doubt as a dog rids itself of muddy water.

  Grow up Jamie! First things first: stay calm. Panic is your worst enemy.

  He checked his air gauge. You still have a couple of hours of air left, so there’s plenty of time. The Cat can’t be more than a few meters away. Just be methodical about it.

  James turned and began working his way back the way he came, zigzagging just in case his aim was off. The occasional pebble or minute rock shard pinging off his helmet made him flinch. Four minutes passed, then five. By now James’ jumpsuit was sodden with perspiration. The self-doubt began to tickle the edges of his mind again. What if I don’t find it?

  It was only then that James understood the true terror of a Martian dust storm. Red-out didn’t simply mean being locked in your Cat for a few days. It meant wandering blindly in your EVA suit until you ran out of air. It meant dying within meters of your vehicle because you walked in circles without finding it until it was too late. Mostly, it meant being remembered as just another poor SOB who was careless.

  Mars is an angry god; one who doesn’t suffer fools gladly.

  Stinging salt kept emigrating from his eyebrows into his eyes, reducing the visibility even more. Then, for a split-second, the curtain opened to his left.

  There! A flicker of silver. It could only be the Cat.

  James quickly scrambled in that direction before he lost his way again. Within seconds he was at the Cat’s side, catching his breath against one of the large composite-material wheels. Thank you, God! Once again you came through, parting a sea of red. Remind me to spend more time in the base chapel when I get back!

  Just as there are no atheists in foxholes, there are precious few on Mars.

  James used the Braille method to work his way toward the front of the Cat, except…it was gone! Instead, there was a cargo compartment where the cab should have been.

  What the hell?

 
; It took James a puzzled few seconds for the realization to set in that in his blindness he had crawled entirely around to the other side of the Cat without ever seeing or feeling it! Realizing this, he doubled back to the other end of the Cat, this time finding the cab where it belonged.

  He clambered up into the cab’s airlock. When the status light turned green he entered the cab, turned on the headlights and roof lamps, and powered up the motors. The view outside the cab’s windshield was like something out of Dante’s Inferno: the sand, flame-like, whirled and danced madly in the lights. Something obscured James’ view of Hell—his helmet faceplate was scored and pitted in places, as if sandblasted.

  “Damn!” I was only out there a half-hour or so. Good thing I wasn’t wandering around unprotected!

  James sat there for several long minutes until he regained his composure. They didn’t do it justice. All the books I read, all the lectures I attended, all the people I talked to—they all failed miserably at depicting what it’s actually like to be caught in a red-out. I certainly won’t take it lightly in the future!

  “All right, let’s find some shelter.”

  He put the vehicle in gear. He still couldn’t see more than a meter in front of him.

  All right. If I remember correctly, the rock wall was about eight meters ahead. Just take it easy. There’s no hurry, and you don’t want to hit the—

  Wham!

  The Cat had jumped up several meters of sloping rubble, slammed into the wall, and bounced back. James, who hadn’t thought to strap himself into the seat, was thrown hard against the windshield. His helmet absorbed most of the impact, but not enough to keep James from a nasty bump and a headache.

  “Ow!” Damn it! Brilliant move, Jamie. Get with the program!

  All right. I’m here, I’m alive, and I’m still in one piece. Just get back into the passenger compartment and hole up for a few days.