"You can follow me," Gold said and she headed out of the infirmary toward the sleeping quarters. As they filed out, Stanton heard her say, "I get the first room."
Once everyone was gone, Stanton walked over to Mtumbe and placed a hand on his sweaty arm. He turned off his comm link.
"Don't worry, my friend. I'll get you out of this." Then he lowered his voice. "Once everyone's asleep, I'll head onto the ship and comm back to Earth."
But he could hear Ferguson's scornful voice.
I knew you couldn't do it yourself, Junior. Real leaders don't have friends, they have followers. That's why you'll always be second best.
Chapter 13
In the event, Stanton couldn't bring himself to leave Mtumbe's side. Mtumbe was sleeping, fitfully at first, then more comfortably. Stanton considered the day. He'd expected something bad, but not any of what had happened. His expectation had been some catastrophic system fail, maybe with the air system, and seven colonist bodies scattered across the station. He wondered whether they would decompose without Earthborne bacteria. Such were his thoughts on the long journey to Mars. The rescue captain expected to be a recovery captain.
But it had turned out to be almost the exact opposite. No colonists' remains to recover, but he had to figure out how to rescue his friend from some virulent Martian bacteria. And he still had his official charge of determining what had happened to the first group.
I don't know what happened to you, Ferguson, he thought, but being the clean up crew is no picnic either.
Mercifully his tortured thoughts were interrupted by Lin's arrival. She seemed eager to relieve him. Stanton wondered about the intensity of Lin's feelings for Mtumbe, but he was glad for it under the circumstances. He decided to leave it alone, at least for now. Romantic relationships on this type of a mission could only be a liability. He was still irked that Dekker and Rusakova had hooked up early in the training. But that had only been one night, and they both agreed not to pursue it further.
Gold's face flashed through his mind and he shook his head to clear it.
He was tired, physically and mentally. He needed some sleep. He thanked Lin, who dutifully took her station next to Mtumbe's head, and exited the sick bay, ostensibly for the sleeping quarters.
But he turned toward the entry bay. Time to report to Earth. To hell with Gold's 'exclusive jurisdiction.' There was no sign of the colonists and he had a man down. Although he was loathe to do it, he was pretty sure it was time to request permission to return home.
He was glad the sleeping quarters were about as far away as they could be, and that the crew—that is, Gold—had had a couple hours to fall into a true sleep. The airlock to the ship wasn't all that loud, but it wasn't silent either.
He slid his hands across the control glass and the first set of doors opened for him. A few moments later, the second doors opened and he stepped aboard the Antares.
Agent Gold spun around in the pilot’s chair.
"Why, Captain Stanton," she grinned. "Fancy meeting you here."
Chapter 14
"Gold? What are you doing here? I thought I told everyone to get some sleep."
Stanton was flustered but trying not to show it.
"I don't sleep well," Gold replied with a phony shrug. "Why did you come on board? You weren't thinking about radioing back to Earth while I slept, were you?"
"No," Stanton lied, although he questioned why he needed to lie; he was the captain after all. "I just— I thought there might be more medical supplies for Mtumbe."
"Oh good," Gold answered. "I thought with Daniel injured and no sign of the colonists, you might be tempted to radio back. Actually that's why I'm here."
"To stop me if I tried?" Stanton demanded. It was one thing to have veto authority over sensitive communications, it was quite another to watch over the communications center like a guard dog.
"No, silly," Gold laughed. "Guilty conscious, Captain?"
Stanton narrowed his eyes. "No, Gold. I could ask you the same question. If you're not playing Doberman to the comm center, then why are you here?"
"I thought I just told you," Gold answered sweetly. "That's why I'm here. I just commed back to Earth. Let them know we'd arrived and the oxygen levels are acceptable. I also let them know there's a problem with the station's comm equipment."
"Problem?" Stanton repeated. "It's missing."
"Well, I'd say that's a problem, wouldn't you?" she laughed.
"Did you tell them about the colonists or Mtumbe?"
Gold smiled. "Now, see, that's why I'm here. I let them know we were still trying to determine what had happened to the first crew, and I advised them that one of ours had fallen and injured his leg, but was recovering."
"Sounds a little short on details," Stanton observed.
"This is where you figure out I can help you too," Gold said. "It's not just about protecting them from dangerous information from Mars. It's also about protecting us."
Stanton cocked his head to the side. "I'm not following you."
"I told them one of our crew had fallen and hurt his leg. Big deal. Yawn."
"I think it's a big deal," Stanton said.
"I know you do," Gold answered, "and that's why you would have screwed it up."
"Excuse me?" Stanton crossed his arms.
"You would have told them the whole story, wouldn't you have?" Gold accused. "The missing crew? Mtumbe's infection? The missing antibiotics?"
"I— I'm not sure," Stanton stammered. "Maybe."
"And you would have used it to request permission to terminate the mission and return home, right?"
"I don't know," Stanton lied again.
"Do you know what they're reply would have been?"
"I assume it would have been 'Yes,'" Stanton answered.
"It would have been 'Hell no.'"
Stanton was taken aback. "How do you know that?"
"Let me repeat back what you would have said," Gold offered, "but in the way they would have heard it. The colonists are all dead from a mysterious Martian bacteria that all the antibiotics they had couldn't stop. Now one of our crew has been infected. Can we come back and unleash the fatal and incurable epidemic on the people of Earth ensuring the destruction of the human race?"
Stanton's face went ashen.
"Or," Gold finished, "are you going to make us die out here for the sake of all humanity?"
Stanton thought about it for several moments. Finally, he nodded begrudgingly. "I see your point," he admitted.
Gold got up and walked over to Stanton. "You're a good captain. And a good friend to Daniel." She put a hand on his, sending his heart racing. "You want to save Daniel, but you won't do it asking for help. We'll have to do it ourselves."
Stanton wasn't so stupid not to realize she was manipulating him, but his head was spinning with the idea that they wouldn't be allowed to go home.
"I'm done here," Gold said. "Let's head back to the sleeping quarters. You've earned some rest."
Stanton relented and the two of them made their way through the airlock and back to the sleeping wing.
"We saved Captain Ferguson's quarters for you," Gold whispered so as not awaken the others. "We know he was your mentor."
"Something like that," Stanton muttered. Then he whispered, "Thanks. And thanks for sending that message before I sent the wrong one and endangered everyone."
"My pleasure," Gold smiled. "Good night, Captain."
Stanton watched as Gold sauntered to her cabin.
"Good night, Cassie," he whispered.
Chapter 15
Stanton slept better than he'd expected. He was too tired to stay up worrying about all the things he needed to worry about. He vaguely recalled his dreams had been strange and disturbing, but he couldn't remember them exactly. He was glad for that.
Sitting up in bed, he remembered he was in Ferguson's cabin. He looked around in the daylight. There was almost nothing to show anyone had even used the room. Everything was standard issue,
with no personalizations. The only exception was a single photograph taped to the wall opposite the bed. Stanton hadn’t noticed it when he'd stumbled into the dark room late last night. But now that it was light, he not only could see it, but he recognized it.
It was the graduation photo from Space Academy, twenty five of the world's top astronauts on the steps of the training facility. His and Ferguson's class. Or maybe he should say Ferguson's and his. Ferguson had graduated top of the class; Stanton had finished second. It would portend their careers as they both moved on from the Academy. Basic training, moon base, asteroid missions, Mars training, and finally Mars Station Alpha. Every step of the way, Ferguson had been the leader and Stanton the assistant. Michael Collins to Ferguson's Neil Armstrong.
Thinking of seconds-in-command reminded Stanton of Mtumbe and roused him from the bed. That's when he noticed Ferguson had written something on top of the photo.
'See you again soon, Junior'
Stanton frowned. He really hated it when Ferguson called him that. A constant reminder of placing second. But it was nice to know Ferguson had been looking forward to seeing him again.
"Too bad it didn't work out," Stanton said aloud as he pulled on his boots to go to breakfast. "Sometimes it's better not to be first, I guess."
The commissary was across the hall from the sleeping cabins. Dekker and Petrov were already there. When Stanton walked in, they stopped talking. Petrov went back to eating his space gruel. Dekker looked up with a huge smile.
"El Capitan!" he greeted a bit too loudly. "How did you sleep last night?"
"I slept fine," Stanton answered. "But since you two are both here, I have a question about something Petrov said to me yesterday."
"Oh, don't listen to Petrov," Dekker laughed, tapping his temple. "He's crazy."
Petrov looked at Dekker, but just smiled and kept eating.
Before Stanton could say more, Lin walked in and turned the captain's attention back to more pressing matters. "How's Mtumbe?" he asked.
Lin smiled, "Why don't you ask him yourself?"
Mtumbe limped into the common room with his arms wide and a huge smile on his face.
"Reports of my demise," he laughed, "are greatly exaggerated."
"Daniel!" Stanton rushed over to his friend. "You're okay!"
"Well, I'm on my feet," Mtumbe answered. "I'm not sure I'm okay yet."
He pulled up his pant leg and showed off his gnarled shin. The scar of the original cut was hard to discern among the bumpy, mottled depression surrounding it. It looked like someone had taken a cheese grater and an ice cream scoop to his leg, leaving a six inch long, three inch wide bumpy pink gash in Mtumbe's otherwise smooth brown skin.
"Damn," said Stanton. "That looks like hell."
"Well, I'm done eating!" announced Dekker as he pushed away his cereal.
Mtumbe looked down at his mangled limb. "Yeah, it's pretty nasty. Hell of a souvenir, eh, cap?"
"It's not so bad, Commander," said Lin. "It is a battle scar. You can be proud."
Mtumbe smiled down at her. "Lin stayed the whole night with me. She helped me pull back to the surface."
Stanton cocked his head. "What about Dekker?" Stanton looked over at the Dutchman. "And Rusakova? We had a schedule."
"Lin told me to go back to sleep," Dekker shrugged. "And she outranks me, so I really had no choice."
"I also told Oksana to let me stay with Commander Mtumbe," Lin explained. "He seemed to be responding to me."
Mtumbe nodded.
Stanton didn't like the fact that his orders had been disregarded, and he didn't like that one of his crew had spent the entire night awake. Lin would be exhausted later today whether she was willing to admit it or not. They would have to make accommodations for that, thereby impacting the mission.
But he couldn't argue with the results.
"Thank you, Lieutenant Lin," he said. "We'll get you some rest today."
"You can sleep on the ship," Dekker said. "We're heading home today, right, Captain?"
Stanton smiled at him. "Well, I was thinking about an excursion," he said, "but we're not heading home just yet. We haven't completed our mission."
"Why not?" Dekker argued. "We know the colonists didn't survive, and I sure as hell hope you're not planning on keeping us here eighteen months. I think you'd have a mutiny on your hands."
The last sentence was a joke, but mutiny wasn't anything to joke about. Even Petrov winced at the word. Dekker blushed.
"What I mean, is—" he tried to explain.
"I know what you meant, Lieutenant," Stanton interrupted. "Why don't you stop with the jokes for a bit and finish your breakfast?"
"Da," mumbled Petrov through the last of his own food.
"Besides, Dekker," Stanton was happy to say, "I need you to be ready for a surface walk in thirty minutes."
Dekker choked on his gruel. "Wha—? Who, me? Why me?"
"Well, it ain't gonna be me," said Mtumbe. "I did my turn."
"That's what I'm worried about," said Dekker. "I don't want it to be my turn next. I'm allergic to killer space viruses."
"It was bacteria," corrected Lin. Then she turned to Stanton. "Will I be going on the surface walk, Captain?"
"I was thinking about having you come along," Stanton answered, "but you need your rest."
Lin looked disappointed.
"And I need someone I can trust to watch after Mtumbe," Stanton added. "I'm not convinced he should be up and around just yet."
Lin’s look of disappointment melted away. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
"So who is going with us, Captain?" Dekker asked. "I don't trust myself alone with you."
Stanton decided to ignore the joke rather than respond to it. "Petrov and Rusakova," he answered.
Petrov just nodded, apparently nonplussed by the assignment.
"Where is Rusakova?" Stanton asked looking around the small eating room.
"Right here, Captain," said Rusakova as she entered the room with Gold right behind her. "What am I needed for?"
"You, Petrov, Dekker, and I are going on a surface walk," explained Stanton.
"Why?" demanded Gold.
"Don't worry," said Dekker. "You're not coming. It's my turn to die from a horrible Martian bacterial infection."
Mtumbe threw up his arms. "I'm not dead," he reminded everyone.
Gold turned to Stanton. "No, seriously. What's the purpose of the walk?"
Once again Gold was challenging his authority in front of the rest of the crew. This time it wasn't even on a communications issue. Stanton was starting to believe she didn't even know when she was doing it.
"It's right up your alley, Agent Gold," Stanton answered. "We're going to find that comm equipment."
Everyone just stared at Stanton for several seconds.
Finally Gold asked, "And where do you think it is, buried out back with some dog bones?"
Stanton forced a laugh. "No, no, of course not." He walked over to Dekker and placed his hands on the Dutchman's shoulders. "Nils here saw something when we were flying in for our landing."
Dekker looked at Petrov. "'Nils'?"
Petrov just shrugged and smiled.
"Now that we know the comm equipment has been removed," Stanton went on, "it seems like a good possibility that's what Dekker saw. So we're going to find out."
"Uh, Captain?" Dekker said uneasily, glancing nervously at Petrov, "I don't think—"
"Don't worry, Nils," Stanton interrupted. "I know it was pretty far from here, but we'll use the station's rover."
"Is that even working?" Gold questioned.
"Only one way to find out," Stanton grinned. "So far everything else has been in perfect working order."
When no one else said anything, Stanton announced, "Good. It's agreed. Thirty minutes, meet at the entry bay to suit up. I'm going to clean up and grab something to eat."
Gold stared at Dekker as he stood up to go get ready for the excursion.
"Don't stare at m
e so long, Agent," he said as he walked past her. "People will talk."
Gold offered a half-smile. "They always do, eventually."
Chapter 16
"Captain? Do you have a moment?"
Dekker had followed Stanton to the bathroom.
"Um, I'm kinda busy just now, Dekker," he answered from inside one of the small toilet closets.
"I know," said Dekker, "but this may the only chance to speak privately with you."
Stanton flushed the toilet and stepped out. "I was almost done anyway." Then he stepped over to sterilize his hands with the septic lotion. "I thought you might follow me."
Dekker nodded and shrugged. "What I saw," he got right to it. "It wasn't comm equipment."
"I know," Stanton smiled.
"You know?"
"Well, I figured," Stanton turned around as he rubbed his hands together. "I know you saw something, and based on what Petrov said, I figured it wasn't abandoned comm equipment."
"What did Petrov tell you?"
"He told me that if I had seen what you saw, then I'd believe there could be ghosts on Mars."
Dekker’s face went ashen. "I— I'm not sure about that exactly."
"Dekker," Stanton put a hand on his shoulder. "Nils. Why don't you just tell me what you saw?"
But before he could, Gold walked in. It was a unisex facility. They were all professionals.
"Captain, can I have a word?" she asked.
Dekker gladly pulled away from his captain. "See you in the entry bay," he grinned. "Enjoyed discussing urination styles with you. Ta ta!"
And he hurried out as fast as he could.
Gold watched him leave, then turned to Stanton. "He's an idiot."
"Maybe," Stanton agreed, "but he's our idiot. So what did you want to talk to me about?"
"What's the reason for this excursion?" Gold asked.
"I thought you were there when I said—"
"No, the real reason," Gold interrupted. "There's no way the comm equipment is sitting outside over the nearest ridge."
"Well, for one thing," Stanton said, "it's not the nearest ridge. It's like three or four ridges away. For another, that comm equipment is somewhere, and it doesn't appear to be anywhere inside the station, so it must be out there. Plus, it's not like you can burn anything in that CO2 atmosphere, so if it is there, it's probably still in one piece."
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