by Arthur C.
Johann and Narong, after a detailed executive planning session, met with the personnel from each department and developed a full set of emergency procedures. The meetings lasted until after midnight. Johann was already tired when he received a message from Anna urging him to spend a few minutes with Deirdre and her most vocal friends, all of whom were incensed that Johann had suspended action on the complaint against Yasin.
Deirdre was livid. “The son of a bitch shook his penis at me” she trumpeted during a small meeting with Johann in his office. “He admitted it in front of everybody… not taking action immediately, you are condoning his action.”
“It is my opinion,” Johann replied slowly, “that to guarantee this outpost will survive the coming dust storm, we need Yasin’s talent and cooperation. I am not willing to risk everyone in Valhalla to redress your grievance. Yasin has given me his word that there will be no more incidents. I promise you that I will convene the advisory board and address your complaint again as soon as this emergency is over.”
“His word doesn’t mean a damn thing,” Deirdre said bitterly. “And you know as well as I do, there will be no judgment against him after that much time has passed. Yasin will suffer no consequences, again, for his abusive behavior.”
“I’m sorry, Deirdre,” Johann said. “It was not an easy decision. I admit that—”
“If you were a woman,” she interrupted, “you would understand how I feel.” She shook her head. “You men just don’t get it,” she said, stalking out of the room.
The others followed. Johann glanced at his watch and rubbed his eyes. It was almost one o’clock. When he reached his apartment be was surprised to find that Sister Beatrice was not in the living room.
“She’s still over in the operations center,” Sister Vivien said, sitting up from the bed she had made herself on the floor. “She may sleep some there—but Sister Beatrice told me on the phone two hours ago that she has become very friendly with the night-shift technician Fernando Gomez. He has agreed to awaken her immediately if he sees any new or unusual behavior among the angels.”
Johann smiled to himself and said good night to Vivien. He went into his bedroom and fell asleep, fully clothed, on the top of his bed. A little more than an hour later he was awakened from a deep and dreamless sleep by the gentle touch of Sister Beatrice.
“Jesus, Sister,” Johann said crossly when be realized who was touching him. “Can’t you leave me alone for just one night?”
He rolled over on his side with his back to Sister Beatrice. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Brother Johann,” she said pleasantly. “I know that you were up late planning for the dust storm, but I believe we have an emergency situation.”
Johann sighed heavily and sat up. He switched on the lamp on his end table. “What is it, Sister Beatrice?” he said, making no attempt to disguise his irritation.
“Late last night the activity among the mobile angels accelerated rapidly. Fernando noticed it also. I believe that the timetable for the larger construction project has been revised.”
So what? Johann thought to himself. He gazed at Sister Beatrice, waiting for her to continue. Her blue eyes were extraordinarily clear. She looked so eager, so fresh… How is that possible? Johann asked himself. She has had no more sleep than I have.
Sister Beatrice had sat down on the side of the bed. “Brother Johann,” she said, leaning toward him and trembling with excitement, “the angels are building another hatbox. Only this one is much larger, and has an open door with a small ladder to the surface. Fernando programmed one of the cameras to use its zoom lens and look inside the door. We saw seats, Brother Johann. Seats that appear to be a perfect size for human beings.”
Johann took a slow, deep breath and tried to comprehend what he was hearing. “I would not have bothered you,” Beatrice now said, “except half an hour ago a second rectangular plate was erected beside this new hatbox, and lights began to flash… Unless Fernando and I have made an error in reading the pattern, the sequence will conclude in three hours, just after dawn.”
Johann was now completely awake. “And you believe that this hatbox, too, is about to launch itself from Mars?”
“Of course,” she said with a smile. “That’s obvious. Otherwise there would have been no point to everything last night. The smaller hatbox was just a demonstration, to make certain we understood what they were doing.”
Her eyes became even more intense. “They have come to rescue us, Brother Johann,” she said. “From the dust storm, and from the collapse of our community on Mars. God has sent His angels to carry us away.”
Johann was speechless. His mind was exploding with questions. “You think the hatbox was built for us?” he said.
“Yes.” Sister Beatrice nodded. “At least some of us… Nothing else makes any sense. I have prayed earnestly to God, imploring Him to tell me if my conclusions are wrong. I have shared what I am thinking with all my brethren, and with Fernando and his girlfriend Satoko. Everyone agrees that I have properly interpreted the signs. They are all preparing to leave at this very moment, but of course we need your help… There is not much time.”
Johann jumped up from the bed immediately. He now understood why she had awakened him. “Let me get this straight. You want me to take all of you out there,” he said, “now, in the middle of the night, so that you can board an alien spacecraft that you believe was sent by God to rescue you?”
Beatrice smiled and nodded again.
“Then you, my dear bishop, or whatever it is that you are,” Johann said, now pacing around the bedroom, “are absolutely crazy… You have no idea at all where that hatbox might go, or who is controlling it, or why it came here in the first place. This whole thing may be some kind of an alien trick… The damn thing may blow up as soon as you are onboard.”
“I didn’t expect you to understand, Brother Johann,” she said in an even tone, “for you have so little faith. And people with faith always seem crazy to those without… But all this is beside the point. The eight of us who want to be inside that hatbox when the light sequence finishes cannot accomplish our goal without your approval. Mr. Udomphol says it must be your decision for us to use the rovers.”
“You’ve already awakened Narong?” Johann said.
“Yes,” said Beatrice. “He is over at the operations center now, verifying the pattern in the flashing lights.”
His doorbell rang. Sister Vivien, dressed in a fresh robe and headpiece, answered the door before Johann did. Brothers Ravi and José, Sister Nuba, Fernando Gomez, Satoko Hayakawa, and Anna Kasper all filed into the room.
“We’re all ready,” Brother Ravi said.
“Anna,” Johann shouted. “What are you doing with these people?”
“I want to go too,” she said with a smile, “if there’s enough room… I can’t say that Sister Beatrice has convinced me that the white objects and the particles are angels, but from what you’ve said about your encounters with them, I think my chances in that hatbox are at least as good as if I stay in Valhalla for the dust storm.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” was all Johann could say.
The rovers at Valhalla could accommodate three passengers each. Johann drove 14A again, with Sister Beatrice and Anna Kasper beside him. Narong, Kwame, and Yasin drove the other three vehicles.
“I would have thought you would be the last person to take part in such a harebrained scheme,” Johann said to Anna as he steered the rover onto the slope leading up to the plateau.
“So would I,” Anna said, laughing into the microphone. “In fact, when I stopped by the operations center late last night. I was thinking about nothing but the dust storm.”
“What made you decide to go?” Johann said.
“Sister Beatrice,” Anna replied. “Somehow what she was saying, even without the angel part made sense to me.”
“She allowed God to speak to her, Brother Johann,” Beatrice said. “I was just His temporary agent.”
“She is a very p
ersuasive agent,” Anna said.
“I can certainly believe that,” Johann commented, turning his head to smile at Beatrice through his faceplate.
When they reached the site, they parked the rovers next to the robot cameras that were still sending real-time transmissions to Valhalla, and walked down the steep incline toward the hatbox and the rectangular plate. Narong interpreted the flashing lights, informing everyone that there were forty minutes left in the sequence. He walked over beside Johann.
“Don’t you think it’s dangerous to stand so close?” Narong asked. “We don’t really know what’s going to happen. If an explosion, or excess radiation, were to wipe all of us out, Valhalla would have a hard time surviving the dust storm.”
Johann agreed. He asked everyone to step up the pace so that the four drivers would be able to watch the liftoff, if it occurred, from beside the rovers.
The long white ribbon of particles hovering over both the hatbox and the plate seemed to brighten as the twelve humans made their way down the incline. Johann stared at the ribbon and watched the sparkling motes dance back and forth inside the structure. He remembered vividly each of his previous experiences with the particles and found himself wondering if this would be his last encounter with them.
Sister Beatrice marched directly over to the hatbox and ascended the ladder without hesitation. The other four Michaelites were right behind her. “There are eleven seats altogether,” she announced several seconds later, “placed against the walls. There is plenty of room inside.”
Anna was the last of the eight to climb the ladder. When she reached the top rung, she turned around and waved to the four men standing on the Martian surface. “This ought to be interesting,” she said, her voice betraying her nervousness.
There were eighteen more minutes remaining in the sequence. The sun had just begun to rise in the east. The four drivers turned their backs on the hatbox and headed for the rovers.
“Hey, Ace,” Yasin said. “After this launch or whatever is over, can we spend some time examining those things over there?” He motioned toward the collection of white objects two hundred meters to the west.
“I don’t think that would be such a good idea,” Johann said, turning around to look at Yasin. It was then that Johann noticed the two smaller ribbons flying toward them. The men froze as each of the two ribbons formed into a torus and came up beside them. One ribbon ended up hovering over Johann, the other over Kwame. Johann felt a strange tingling sensation all over his arms and legs.
“There are still three seats left,” they heard Sister Beatrice say. She was watching from the doorway to the hatbox.
Kwame craned his neck backward and stared at the halo of particles over his head. “Well,” he said after several seconds, “that’s enough for me… I know when I’m being called.”
He reached over and shook hands with the other men. “Wish me luck,” Kwame said. Johann could see him grinning through his faceplate.
“And what about you, boss?” Narong said as they watched Kwame walking toward the hatbox. “There is definitely something hovering over your head as well.”
“I’m not going,” Johann said, starting to walk toward the rovers again. “It’s too crazy… Besides, I’m needed at Valhalla.”
“We could manage without you,” Narong said. “And remember what you told me about your first experience…“
There was no time for Johann to respond. The particles had formed into a baseball and were poised in midair above his head, a few meters up the incline. When he took another step up the slope, the baseball smashed against his faceplate.
“Brother Johann,” he heard a beautiful voice say inside his helmet, “come with us. You have been selected over and over.”
The baseball resumed its position. It was poised to strike Johann again if he walked up the hill. The tingling in his arms and legs intensified. Impelled by something beyond rational thought, he turned around and headed down the incline.
“Hooray for you, Brother Johann,” Sister Beatrice said into her microphone. “Some faith at last.”
Johann reached the ladder while there were still six minutes to go in the sequence. As he climbed the rungs he was aware of both his palpitating heart and an inner voice telling him that he was a complete and utter fool.
Sister Beatrice greeted him at the door with a small hug and ushered him inside. The room, which was shaped like a hexagon, was the size of a small bedroom. With one eye on his watch, Johann made small talk with the others and tried to calm his nerves before taking the seat farthest from the door.
“Someone else is coming,” Fernando Gomez said as the countdown entered its last minute. He was seated closest to the door. Both Johann and Sister Beatrice rose instinctively to see what was happening.
A solitary figure in a spacesuit was racing across the Martian plain. He bounded up the ladder and entered the door to the hatbox. “I’ll take the last seat,” Yasin said with a grin. Fifteen seconds later the door closed.
THE DIVINE COMEDY
1
It was dark inside the capsule for a brief moment after the door shut. Then lighting was provided by a dozen small light sources in the floor, two in each part of the hexagon. Around the capsule, two people were sitting against each of the five solid walls. Fernando’s seat shared the sixth wall with the closed door.
Everything happened very quickly. A few seconds after the lights came on, Johann felt bands wrap around his forehead, his chest, and his thighs, pinning him to his chair. There were a couple of cries of fear, but they were drowned out by the roar beneath the floor. The force of the acceleration was enormous. Johann felt as if the pressure was going to push his eyes out of his head. Across the capsule, Sister Beatrice strained against the bands, finally succeeding in clasping her hands in prayer.
In less than a minute the acceleration diminished to a normal level. When the bands holding him against the chair loosened and retracted, the wall behind and above Johann slid to one side and revealed a tall thin window. The hatbox was already thirty kilometers above the surface of Mars and climbing rapidly. Valhalla could no longer be identified as a separate entity, but the angry growing dust storm, now covering two thirds of the planet, was a spectacular sight below them.
“Well, Ace…” Yasin was the first to speak. He had risen from his chair and was standing next to Johann, looking out the window. “Where do you think we’re going?”
“I have no idea,” Johann answered. He stared at the huge, swirling clouds of dust covering the region directly below them. He thought about Narong, and Valhalla, and the struggle the outpost would have to survive the dust storm.
“They’ll make it all right, Ace,” Yasin said, as if he were reading Johann’s mind. “They have eleven less mouths to feed… And your boy Narong is extremely competent.”
“Brother Johann,” Sister Beatrice said. She was standing on his left side, also staring out the window. “We are going to offer a prayer of thanks to God. Would you care to join us?”
“To which God are you going to pray, Sister?” Yasin asked. “The Christian God, Allah, or some other?”
Sister Beatrice faced Yasin directly. “Mr. al-Kharif,” she said into her microphone, “we have not had a formal introduction. I am Sister Beatrice of the Order of St. Michael.”
“I know who you are, Sister,” Yasin said. “You are famous, or infamous, all over Mars. Hell, we even had two of your clowns working at Alcatraz.”
“Mr. al-Kharif,” Beatrice said, ignoring the taunting tone of his voice, “members of our order believe that there is one God, not just for all humanity, but for the entire universe. Whether that God be called Allah, or Jehovah, or something else is not important. What is important is our worship of Him, and our love and respect for one another… In a moment we are going to share a prayer of thanks, a collective expression of our humility in the presence of the miracle we have experienced. We would be delighted if you would share this prayer with us.”
Out
side the window, Mars continued to recede from the spacecraft. Now, for the first time, the full globe was visible. All that could be seen of the surface, however, was the region near the north pole and the very top of Mount Olympus. The rest was obscured by the awesome dust storm that had covered the planet with a light brown shroud.
Yasin and Johann looked at the planet below them. “Dear God,” they both heard Sister Beatrice say. They turned around. The other nine members of their group were kneeling on the floor of the hexagon, their hands clasped in prayer.
“What are you doing, Hassan?” Yasin said sharply. “You’re a Muslim, not a Christian.”
Kwame was kneeling between Sister Vivien and Sister Nuba. “At this moment, Yasin, that distinction seems especially insignificant,” he said. “Now, if you will permit us, we would like to continue with our prayer.
Johann left the window and knelt beside Sister Beatrice. She turned to smile at him. “Dear God,” she began again.
“All right, Sister,” Yasin interrupted, determined to have the last word. “I am willing to participate, but only on one condition. Can you include a sura from the Koran in your prayer?”
“Of course, Mr. al-Kharif,” Beatrice said without hesitation. “In fact, we shall begin with one.” She motioned to the empty spot in the circle. “Will you join us please?”
Yasin knelt down awkwardly. “Dear God,” Beatrice said, “we would like to start our prayer of thanks for Your majesty and compassion with a sura from the one hundred and twelfth chapter of the Koran, ‘Say He is the One God…’”
Their orbit carried them completely around Mars every seventy minutes. Since the size of the planet below them did not appreciably change, Johann concluded that they were flying in a near-circular orbit. On the first revolution each of the occupants spent at least a few minutes at the window. Johann and Yasin were the only two members of the group with any detailed background in physics. They took turns answering questions about the motion of their vehicle, the appearance of the terminator below them, and the location and size of the two Martian moons.
