Rebels of the Red Planet

by Charles L. Fontenay

  9

  From the time she saw Dark Kensington die until Nuwell's arrival at theChateau Nectaris a day later, Maya remained in her room, half in shock,half in an agony of sorrow and remorse.

  She was so exhausted by her ordeal that she did sleep, but it wasfitfully and without genuine rest. She had her meals sent up to herroom, and ate automatically, not tasting the food.

  Rationally, she could in no way blame herself for Dark's death, but thatdid not prevent her feeling strongly that her insistence on trackingdown the fugitives from the Childress Barber College had made her,directly, his slayer. Her feeling of distress was much deeper and morepersonal than normal regret at having brought about the death of afriendly enemy while in pursuit of her duty.

  Maya realized that in those few hours she had been with Dark and talkedto him, something had taken root and flowered that had changed her wholeoutlook on existence. She did not want to call it love; she was a verypractical young woman and did not believe in love on such short notice.But, in examining her feelings, she was at a loss as to what else tocall it.

  She had felt a powerful attraction to this man, a tremendous admirationand liking for him, a feeling of _belonging_ in his presence. She hadsensed his strength. It had appalled her when she had had to opposeherself to him in keeping him captive, but in other circumstances shefelt it was the sort of strength she could depend on. Willingly, shethought now, she, could have dispensed with everything else in her life,and followed Dark Kensington wherever he chose to wander, a fugitive,among the deserts and lowlands.

  And Nuwell? Her feeling for him had not changed. She was still attractedto him and she still admired him. But the admiration she had felt forhis sharp, sardonic handling of his opponents in a court of law seemed alittle shallow and a little immature in comparison to the sudden onrushof what she sensed about Dark.

  Since her early teens, she had been an eager enemy of those rebels whomshe conceived to be disrupting the orderly settlement of Mars, and herdesire to contribute to the defeat of those rebels had been adisciplining, integrating force in her personality. Yet, in only a fewshort hours of quiet talk, Dark had cut the foundation from that forceand dissipated it.

  If only she had not delayed, if only she had made up her mind decisivelyto what she felt now ... Dark need not have died, she could have freedhim, and together they could have left Solis Lacus. With him, she wouldhave fought as hard for the rebel cause as, in the past, she had foughtagainst it.

  But now it was too late. And, moping tearfully in her room, she foundthat she didn't care any more, one way or another, about the strugglebetween Marscorp and the rebels.

  By the time Nuwell arrived from Mars City, she had regained control overher feelings. When he telephoned her in her room, she went down to thelobby to meet him, pale but composed.

  She had a strange feeling as she came out into the big lobby, arching upabove its balconies, a feeling as though she had been away in a distantland for a very long time and was just returning to the world she hadknown all her life. In this returning, she looked upon things with newideas, and they did not appear the same as before.

  This was the same spacious lobby across which she had walked to registerwhen she came to Solis Lacus from Mars City a few days ago. It was thesame lobby in which, looking down from the balcony, she had seen DarkKensington arriving. It was the same lobby in which she had sat withDark and talked for so long. But it seemed a strange place, a differentplace, one that looked like the lobby she remembered but in which shehad never walked before.

  Nuwell was standing across the lobby with the two police officers fromOphir, beside a long wooden box that rested on the floor next to theregistration counter. Behind the counter, Quelman Gren, the manager ofChateau Nectaris, was sorting the day's mail.

  Nuwell saw her, detached himself from the others and came across thelobby to meet her. As he approached, she experienced the same feelingtoward him that she had felt toward the lobby: he was like someone shehad known, but a different person.

  There was a worried frown on Nuwell's face, and he managed to getsomething of disapproval in his greeting kiss.

  "It's lucky I called Ophir and had those men sent over here," were hisfirst words. "If they hadn't gotten here when they did, that rebel mighthave killed you and escaped. I told you, Maya, not to try to handle asituation like that."

  "It was very astute of you to send them over," answered Maya dryly. "Ishould have thought of it myself."

  "That's exactly why you shouldn't try to handle such things alone," saidNuwell, apparently somewhat mollified.

  Maya looked into his face, a handsome, youthful face bearing a slightlypeeved expression, and she thought two things: she thought of the longand intensive training she had undergone as a terrestrial agent, and shecontemplated just how effectively Nuwell might have handled Dark'scapture, had Nuwell been in her place.

  "Come on, Maya, let's clear this up, so we can get out of here and getback to Mars City," said Nuwell, and led her across the lobby to the twopolicemen and the wooden box.

  The two men from Ophir greeted her with a certain embarrassment, andseemed relieved when she smiled wanly at them.

  "These men have told me how the rebel had turned the tables and gainedthe advantage of you before their arrival," said Nuwell. "They say thatbefore he was killed, he confessed to them that he was Dark Kensington,one of the major rebel leaders who escaped from the Childress BarberCollege. I believe that coincides with your identification of him,doesn't it?"

  "Yes," answered Maya in a low voice. "He was Dark Kensington. I saw himonce at the college, and he identified himself to me then as asupervisor."

  She did not feel called on to say anything more, and to tell Nuwell whatDark himself had told her about the rebellion and his part in it.

  "Very good," said Nuwell with satisfaction. "We've captured the Chief,the peculiar-looking individual who escaped by driving his copterthrough the city dome. All the indications are that he and Kensingtonwere the two top figures in the rebellion. I think all that's needed nowis for you to identify the body positively as Kensington, Maya."

  He indicated the wooden box, which lay, lidless, on the floor.Reluctantly, Maya stepped up to it, and looked down into it.

  The pain which distorted Dark's face when he lay writhing from theheatgun blast was gone from his features. They were calm and peaceful indeath.

  Maya gazed down at his face wistfully, sorrowfully, then turned away.

  "Well?" asked Nuwell impatiently.

  "Yes," she murmured. "That's Dark Kensington."

  "Very good," said Nuwell, and turned to the two men. "We'll take thebody to the hydroponic farm for the vats," he said. "There'll be othersafter the trials and executions of the rebels we've captured."

  "Do you have to do that?" protested Maya. "Why can't you give the man adecent burial out here in the lowland?"

  "Don't interfere in matters which are none of your affair," repliedNuwell brusquely. "Bodies of criminals are always sent to the vats.They're constantly short of bodies, as it is, and we can't very wellsend them corpses of law-abiding citizens."

  He turned away. As Maya accompanied him across the corridor, the two menfrom Ophir began nailing the lid on the wooden box that contained DarkKensington's remains.

  At the elevator, Nuwell said:

  "Get your things packed as soon as you can. I want to go back to MarsCity right away by copter. I have some things I want to talk to youabout, very seriously, but they can wait until we're airborne."

  "Why by copter?" asked Maya. "Groundcar is faster."

  For the first time, Nuwell's face broke into a genuine smile, and hisordinary charming self shone through.

  "Because," he replied drolly, "I've just made that trip by groundcar,and every bone in my body aches. It may be slower, but I want to go backby air, where there aren't as many bumps!"

  Maya was able to laugh at this. She went up to her room.

  It did not take her long to pack, and to dress in a
tunic and trousersfor travel. When she came back down to the lobby, Nuwell was waiting,and they took a groundcar from the chateau to the dome airlock.

  The three government agents who had come with Nuwell from Mars City hadthe helicopter ready for them on the flat lowland just beyond theairlock. As the groundcar emerged onto the sage-covered plain, the menwere helping the two policemen from Ophir unload the box containing DarkKensington's remains from another groundcar and load it into the baggagebay of the copter.

  Nuwell and Maya slipped into their marsuits, secured the helmets andclimbed out of the groundcar. Nuwell gave his men some finalinstructions to follow before returning to Mars City by groundcar. Thenhe and Maya went aboard the copter.

  They strapped themselves in the seats. Nuwell sealed the copter door,and released oxygen from the tanks into the interior. When the dialsshowed the air to be breathable, he and Maya removed their helmets,Nuwell started the motor and the craft lifted slowly and smoothly intothe air above the Solis Lacus Lowland.

  Nuwell headed the copter northwestward. As soon as they were well oncourse, he turned to Maya with a stern expression on his face.

  "There's one thing I can't understand at all," he said severely. "Whatmadness possessed you to resist those men I sent over from Ophir, andattempt to help Kensington escape?"

  She looked at him steadily without replying.

  What should she answer? Could she say, "I discovered that I had fallenin love with Dark Kensington. I found that his reasons for the rebellionmade sense to me, and that you and the government and Marscorp arewrong"?

  What would Nuwell's reaction be if she told this truth?

  But it could do no good to say that. It could do the rebels no good,because now they were scattered and defeated. It could do Dark no good,because he was dead. She did not think she would suffer personally fromsuch a revelation, but it could only hurt Nuwell, who loved her.

  So, at last, she said:

  "Nuwell, I'd rather not talk about that. I didn't succeed, so can weforget it?"

  "I think it's best that we do," agreed Nuwell. "The only thing I canthink is that you were slightly hysterical over Kensington's havinggained the upper hand, after the strain of guarding him for so long, andyour action was an unconscious expression of resentment at their havingto take over his custody where you had failed. But we might have learneda great deal through questioning the man at length, and that action ofyours made it necessary for them to kill him."

  Nuwell could not know how deeply those words struck her. She turned herface away from him, and the tears came to her eyes.

  "At any rate," went on Nuwell, unaware, "I think this demonstrates thatthese espionage activities have been far too much of a strain for you,and I think it's time you stopped. We have one of the two major leaderscaptured and the other one dead, and I don't think they're going to giveus much more trouble even if we don't locate all the fugitives. So Iwant you to give up this idea of wandering around from city to city,helping identify rebels."

  "I think you're right," she agreed in a choked voice. She had no moreinterest now, certainly, in tracking down rebels.

  "And," continued Nuwell, even more firmly, "marry me when we get back toMars City."

  Well, why not? Nuwell loved her. What else was there for her?

  "Yes, I'll do that, too," she said. "As soon as we get back, I'll makeout my report, and send my resignation with it back on the first ship toEarth. Then I'll marry you, Nuwell."

  His face was radiant and triumphant as he turned to her. He put his armaround her shoulders, drew her to him and kissed her.

  The helicopter flew northwestward. Passing over the Solis Lacus Lowland,it crossed the Thaumasia Desert and the Tithonius Lacus Lowland, andwhirred above the Desert of Candor. Ahead of it, after a time, thererose on the horizon the white stone forms of a distant group ofbuildings.

  Nuwell dropped the helicopter lower. He angled it down, and in a shorttime landed it on the desert near one of the four buildings of theCanfell Hydroponic Farm.

  As he and Maya donned their marshelmets, a group of marsuited menemerged from the building's airlock and came across the sand towardthem.

  Maya stared curiously out the copter window. She had heard of thisgovernment experimental station, but had not visited it before.

  "This is another reason I wanted to take a copter," explained Nuwell,releasing the air from the copter's interior. "There aren't any roads tothis place, and I didn't want to drive a groundcar across the desert tobring Kensington's body here."

  They emerged from the copter as the group from the building approached.Nuwell greeted the five of them and introduced them to Maya. Four ofthem were strangers to her, but the fifth she remembered: GoatHennessey, white-bearded and watery-eyed.

  "How are you adjusting to your new work here, Dr. Hennessey?" Nuwellasked him.

  "Very well," answered Goat in his cracked voice. "They're using adifferent approach from mine, but I find it extremely interesting."

  Remembering Goat's earlier experiments at Ultra Vires, it occurred toMaya to be grateful that Dark had not fallen alive into the hands ofthese people at the Canfell Hydroponic Farm.

  Their entire stop lasted only a few minutes. Nuwell refused aninvitation to remain overnight, explaining that he was anxious to get onto Mars City. The others unloaded Dark's coffin and moved with it backtoward the building. Nuwell and Maya climbed back into the copter, andshortly they were airborne again and the buildings of the CanfellHydroponic Farm were receding behind and below them.

  Nuwell guided the copter almost straight westward now. It passed overCandor and buzzed out over the broad Xanthe Desert.

  And here trouble developed. Without warning, the engine coughed andstopped. Nuwell worked frantically at the controls, to no avail. As thebig blades slowed in their rotation, the copter sank, slowly at first,then ever more swiftly, to the surface of the desert. They donnedmarshelmets hurriedly.

  It struck with a terrific crash, which would have hurled them throughthe windows had they not been strapped down. The entire body of thecopter crumpled in on itself, and it came to rest, a collapsed wreck,with the two of them sitting in its midst, miraculously uninjured.

  There was no question of trying to start the engines or fly the machine.It was a total wreck. Nuwell tried the radio without success.

  "What in space went wrong with the thing?" he demanded angrily. "I knowit wasn't short of fuel. There's nothing left for us to do but walk, I'mafraid, Maya."

  "Back to the hydroponic farm?"

  "No, we've come too far. By my chart, we're not far from Ultra Vires. Ithink we'd better try to make it for the night, and if Goat left hisradio equipment in working order we'll call for help. If not, the onlything I know to do is to head for Ophir."

  Ultra Vires--Maya remembered it with a shudder. The grim, black bastionin the desert where Goat Hennessey had worked with grotesque, twistedcaricatures of humans.

  They fumbled about the wreck to find the minimum emergency supplies theythought they would need, and started westward on foot.