An almost irresistible urge to sleep came over him. Instead, he forced himself to focus on Latt’s blurry outline crouching before him. He began to speak, then, remembering that Latt had touched his helmet to Terry’s to communicate, he reached up with his left arm and pulled Latt’s head down until their helmets were in contact once more. “We must get… back to Isaac and Ruth… Warn them… you’re never beat ‘til you quit,” he slurred.
“No power.” Latt’s voice came back fatalistically. “The lasser beam went right through the truck. We would never make it on foot.”
“Let me see.”
Terry put his good arm around Latt’s neck and held on grimly as he was pulled up. He stood on his feet and turned shakily around. The truck looked like it had been sliced in half. Terry’s seat and most of the frame beneath it had been vaporized, the radar scanner was gone and the laser was cut in two, a part still attached to the mount, the other part lying on the frame. The rear wheel on the left side, where Latt had tried to make Terry comfortable, was also missing, and the central wheel on the right side had met the same fate. A wave of nausea pinned Terry to the side of the wreck and threatened to flood his facemask. With a supreme effort he kept the bile down and held himself up by gripping the back of Latt’s seat with his left hand.
A sharp click indicated that Latt’s helmet was touching his again, and the voice came over in a dull monotone, which reminded Terry of how Latt had sounded the first time he had met him. “Wheelss gone, radar gone, sship gone. It’ss no usse, Terry; we might ass well ssit down and wait for the end to come.”
Terry glanced at the panel of controls in front of the driver’s seat. Several lights were still glowing, and even the radar screen was still illuminated, an image of the last scan frozen on the surface. He took one small step forward, then another, until he could see the controls more clearly. “Power still good…” he gasped. “Reconnect … the rear wheel… Go back…” He turned to see that Latt was not listening, but was just staring off into the storm.
There was a thump and Latt found himself pinned back against the truck with Terry leaning against him. Terry’s helmet banged forward on Latt’s with a loud cracking sound, which threatened to break the material.
Terry’s left arm came up and started to shake Latt’s shoulder wildly. “Look… not giving up… going back… we must…” Terry stared into Latt’s faceplate, his eyes as glassy and unblinking as his new friend’s.
The moving reflection of something on the glass of Terry’s facemask caught the despairing humanoid’s attention. Latt turned and saw the temporary power lead which had connected the reactor output to the laser, flapping loosely. He stared at it for a few seconds, then his expression became slightly less morose. He sat Terry down on the front seat and walked around to the loose cable. Glancing back at Terry he saw him nod encouragement. He noticed that the stump of Terry’s right arm was pinned to his side by the melted fabric of his suit. There did not appear to be any blood, so Latt concluded that the laser had cauterized the wound. His only chance is getting back to the complex. There, Ruth will be able to comfort him until the end finally comes. But I don’t even know which way to go. Latt’s thoughts were interrupted as his friend slumped over towards him. He caught Terry before he hit the ground and laid him back against the padding. As he finished making the now unconscious casualty as comfortable as the circumstances allowed, he noticed the image on the radar screen. At least that’s a start! Latt suddenly started to feel a glimmer of hope. Now, if I can just remember what I did on the way out, and retrace my route…
He started working feverishly, taking scraps of cable and laboriously splicing them together until he had the power reconnected to all of the four undamaged wheels remaining on the truck. He was about to throw the remains of the laser away, when he noticed that the section that contained the visible light module was still intact. Hammering it against the framework, he managed to open it and remove the unit. Although he could not foresee any use for it, he replaced the unit in the hand laser and clipped it to his belt. Maybe we’ll be attacked by a sand beast! He smiled to himself, aware that Terry had changed his attitude to life, and suddenly proud that he had the willpower to continue, because of Terry’s incredible example.
With great care, Latt moved Terry’s now limp form, returning him to the remains of the right seat, then moved him back some more and rigged up a system to hold him to the truck during the impending journey. The merest hint of a smile brushed his face. He stayed awake just long enough to get me going.
***
Several hours later, Terry awoke to the characteristic jolting of their vehicle, exaggerated significantly by the loss of two wheels from the suspension and propulsion system. He found himself strapped loosely to the frame behind Latt, braced against the sliver of central pole left where the laser had been mounted. He glanced down to see the framework flexing with each new rock or hollow that they drove over. I hope it holds out. He leaned forward gingerly and found that his head swam. After a moment it slowed until he seemed to be floating. The scenery around them was unchanged, dust still obscured vision more than twenty yards away, and the terrain was still an endless jumble of rocks. Looking down as a sudden jolt caused a sharp, intense pain in his right arm, a wave of cold flooded over him, leaving him numb.
Several minutes passed while the impact of his discovery slowly soaked into his mind, then he glanced down and saw that his air sphere was almost empty. He leaned forward a little more and tapped Latt on the shoulder with his left hand. Latt stopped the vehicle, turned and looked back at him. Then, seeing he was fully conscious once more, he leaned back until their helmets were touching.
“How far?”
“This sshould be closse - if I have driven uss in the right direction,” Latt replied. “We are on our last spheres now.”
Terry absorbed this, then stated: “We need to s-signal.”
“The radio intercom only workss over a few yardss, and our ssysstem wass damaged beyond repair when the lasser sstruck,” Latt said simply.
“There must b-b-be s-some other way t-to s-signal.” Terry clamped his teeth together in an attempt to stop them chattering. Shock, mustn’t succumb to it.
Latt shook his head. Even if we were close enough, which I doubt, and there was a way to signal, they can’t come and get us. Suddenly he remembered the laser. He banged his helmet back against Terry’s in excitement. “There’ss the lasser; we can usse that.”
“No… it was destroyed… I remember.”
Latt shook his head, then held up the hand laser for Terry to see.
Confused, Terry reached forward and took the weapon from Latt’s hand, his weary mind unable to quite remember why this made no sense. He depressed the firing control and was amazed and excited to see the thin, bright beam of light stretch off into the distance until it was swallowed up by the dust. “Great! I’ll fire a couple of bursts each side every minute.”
Latt nodded his acquiescence and drove on. He jumped slightly when the first flash of light appeared from behind him a little later, remembering immediately that Terry was responsible. Two flashes on the left, them two on the right, then a pause, then the sequence was repeated.
Terry found that the task he had accepted for himself kept him alert. He decided that he could accept the loss of his arm, but the pain from the fingers he no longer possessed was harder to bear. It made him feel like his arm was still really there. This combined with the dust storm to create a feeling of fantasy stronger than anything he had ever experienced. As time continued to pass without any change, a feeling of pointlessness started to creep over him. He knew now that they were far from his friends, from his Ruth, but still he continued the meaningless signalling. Two left… two right… two left… two right… two… right… two…
Terry drifted on the edge of consciousness and felt real horror as his mind became momentarily lucid, realizing that he was pointing the laser directly at Latt’s back. His teeth started to chatter again, but th
is time he could not stop them. His entire body started to shake, especially the hand holding the laser. He tried to put it down, but it pulsed again, just missing Latt’s right shoulder. Terry did not notice this, however, as his tortured body had passed into unconsciousness once more.
Latt stopped the truck and turned around. He found Terry hanging over the side, the laser loose in his lap. He picked up the now-useless weapon and climbed down. Gently he swung the unconscious form back onto the truck and tightened the restraining straps. He checked the time and found that they had been travelling for more than an hour longer than on the journey out. This is hopeless, he admitted to himself finally. Even if we have moved more slowly… He glanced at Terry’s sphere and saw that only a few minutes of air remained in it. His was about the same. Terry was wrong to try; it was a wasted effort. Latt leaned against the side of the truck and ran his hands over the remains of the middle wheel. He looked up at the place where the radar scanner had once been. With that, we would have had a chance. Without it… He did not bother to finish the thought.
The sand and wind roared around them, like the fake snow in the plastic bubble of a child’s Christmas novelty scene, and, just like it, Latt felt as if he were at the centre of a storm that moved with him in a universe of calm. He stared off unseeingly across the truck. If there is any purpose to life, as Ruth was trying to convince me, why are we dying here? And for nothing. Why couldn’t we stop these Controllers? There are only two of them, and maybe, just maybe, we killed one! We were so close to catching them before they fixed the protective Shells; maybe if we had only taken two hours to build the truck instead of three. Or maybe if the ship had fallen a little closer to the complex. Maybe then we would have stopped them.
Latt’s remaining enthusiasm ebbed away completely. He looked at Terry, his newfound friend. All my life I never even knew what friendship was, and now every single one of Terry’s people are doomed, as the Narlavs in this ship will return to the other Narlavs on Rhaal and prepare their invasion plan, and that will result in the destruction of the inhabitants of Earth, except for the few that survive to become their slaves. They will soon learn to envy the dead, before they forget how to think and feel! He hammered his right hand against the frame of the truck in frustration. If we had succeeded, the Controllers back on Rhaal would never have known of Earth’s existence. Perhaps, one day, with the aid of the technology of the captured ship, we would have been able to return and rescue my own people from slavery, before their inevitable death on Rhaal. He stared off into the nothingness that seemed to encroach on his space-suited speck of self-will.
Through the sand and dust, something flickered, incredibly faintly. Gradually the effect registered in Latt’s weary and depressed mind until his eyes were drawn to and focused on the point. He climbed back up on the truck, his heart rate suddenly increasing, his lungs rapidly responding, threatening to consume his remaining air before he could act. He turned the truck left and made his way towards the point, weaving through the sand and rubble.
The flickering disappeared for a while, and Latt was beginning to wonder if he had imagined it, when it reappeared, brighter and clearer than before. His heart beat even more wildly and he found it hard to concentrate on steering. He crashed into a twenty-foot boulder and had to back up and go around it. The phenomenon expanded as he got past that obstacle; he knew now that it was no figment of his imagination. The dust dissipated for an instant and the scene resolved itself into reality. Leaping and wavering madly, huge flames jumped up from the burning trailer, just thirty yards ahead! Within seconds the complex was also in view, and Latt realized that his friends must have seen Terry’s desperate attempt at signalling and devised a beacon of their own, using air from the life support system to help the trailer burn. Latt grinned to himself as a feeling of supreme accomplishment swept over him. By a miracle he had brought Terry back to his friends, and safety!
***
Hours later, as Latt sat in the sandy drift against the wall of the Railcar and watched Ruth redressing the remainder of Terry’s arm, he mulled the situation over in his mind. We’re safe from the storm, and have air and power for as long as we need it, now that we’re back here. But the food that Isaac salvaged before he set fire to the trailer will not last forever. Then there’s Terry’s wound. Fragments of the Narlav spacesuit are still embedded in the severed stump – it seems to swell bigger by the moment. He needs proper medical attention; the emergency kit that the Controllers took from Terry’s boat will only provide a temporary solution. And of course, we are still stuck on Mars without a means of escape, knowing that the Narlavs may soon be preparing to attack Earth.
That’s assuming that the ship holds out long enough for Varshak and Harnak to fly it back to Rhaal. He found that he was arguing with himself. It will hold out… What did Terry call that? He scanned back through his recent memories to find the elusive term. Oh yes, “Murphy’s Law”.
Despite all this, Isaac says he has an idea that may provide a means of escape from Mars, and a return to Earth. Latt grinned at the thought. These Earthlings never know when they’re beaten. Perhaps you never are until you think you are! He chuckled to himself, enjoying the rich sound in his throat.
Ruth turned, hearing his voice, and she smiled bravely at him before continuing in her attempt to wrap the wound, and make Terry more comfortable.
Latt felt a warm feeling start to grow inside his chest once more. It seemed to expand until he felt like he would burst. Somehow he knew that, despite the obvious impossibility of it, he would somehow accompany his new-found friends as they returned to the planet of their birth. He wondered as he thought about the feelings of the lovely curly-haired figure that refused to give up on her mortally wounded friend. He marvelled that Ruth loved so freely – not just her husband, and her old friend, but also, amazingly, him! And even the distant world she had spoken of so passionately.
To have a home – a world! That you can love… He decided that somehow he would make it there, to learn of its people, its sounds and its sensations, and this time he would not be locked away in the window-less hold of a Warrnam, but he would be free to see its beautiful oceans and wide expanses, though half a solar system of almost perfect vacuum might stand between him and his dream.
Latt thumped his right fist down into the fine reddish sand of Mars beside him. And when the Controllers come, he thought, amazed at his reckless confidence, we’ll be ready for them!
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The impact of laser printing is undeniable – Anon.
“Hello Brad.” Doctor Wilde listened to the sleepy voice respond, impressed that he had woken up, somehow, after she had departed, and had returned to his home to continue his slumber. “Yes, it’s Tracy.” There was a pause while he commented on the time. “Yes, I know it’s early. Look. I know you’re tired, so am I; I’ve been up all night,” Tracy said with a touch of exasperation in her voice. “I just want you to come ‘round to the clinic. You’ll–” she was interrupted again by the partially conscious person on the other end of the phone. “Yes, just throw on some clothes – no, make it your air ambulance uniform, I haven’t seen you in that.” She listened for a moment, suddenly glad that he had not remained at her place, then: “No, I’m not trying to be funny. I just can’t say more on the phone, and there isn’t time anyway. Indulge me, will you? When have I ever asked you to do anything before without explaining?” There was another brief silence, at least from the ever vigilant young Fletcher’s perspective, and then she hung up and turned back to Richard. “He’s coming. Just give him a little while.”
I guess it really doesn’t matter when we start. Richard nodded his acceptance. “So this Brad is a friend of yours?”
“Yeah, I’ve known him for a few weeks; he and I have turned out to be… pretty good friends.” Tracy realised as she said it that their relationship was already much more than that, more than she had thought just a few hours earlier, before she had started to care about the pale, wound
ed girl… From – space?! …but she pushed that revelation aside, knowing she could not explore the full implications of her discovery during the current emergency without compromising her concentration on medical matters – concerns of critical care.
“Do you really think he’ll agree to your plan?” Richard asked with some concern. “What if he thinks that Karen and I are really public enemies numbers one and two?”
“Then you tie him up and find your own way back,” Tracy responded simply. “It’s the only idea I have.”
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be ungrateful.” He looked over at the stretcher bed in the back of the waiting room at Doctor Wilde’s practice. Karen was still unconscious, but seemed to be at least in a stable condition – so movement had been the first order of business. Tracy had felt that a transfer by private ambulance to a location that was not on the hospital records might delay the authorities’ search. She had arranged for a move to a private clinic in Beddington, run by a friend of hers, then, once that was completed, another move, which was recorded at that clinic as a release. The second ambulance had driven to Westwood, with Richard sitting in the back with Karen, the dark box on his lap as ever. The doctor led the way in her car – the last part of her own shift covered by a younger and quite willing colleague – with the beryllium safely stored in the restored trunk. By the time the federal investigators got to Beddington hospital, as Richard assured her they would, the trail would be cold. Even the green truck with the decidedly unhealthy habit of back-firing vanished into a wooded area a few miles from the hospital, where Tracy thought it would stand a good chance of remaining undetected for a few days.
“Why don’t you get some rest?” Tracy suggested to Richard after watching him pace for a few minutes. “At least sit down, you’re making me nervous.”
Ascent Page 40
