“Aracales,”
he said.
“What?”
“On Earth it would belong to the order
Aracales,
the palm order.” He paused while he considered the many ways his statement could be misinterpreted. “Vladimir, your observation is surprisingly accurate; the fossil does bear a resemblance to a palm leaf. Of course that does not mean this fossil belongs to the same order. I only make the statement for comparison purposes. I would imagine, Dmitri, that they will name this plant after you since you are the one who discovered it.”
Komarov approached the fossil to take a closer look. “I should be photographed next to it,” he said.
“Of course.” Satomura stepped back and focused the camera upon Komarov and the fossil. After several minutes, he asked Komarov to step aside because he was blocking the light. He filmed the fossil for several more minutes, then reattached the camera to his suit and sat down upon a rock to consider the find. The impression of the leaf upon the cliff was flawless. He chose a vein and followed it until it diminished into the rock, then chose another. He imagined what the plant that bore the leaf must have looked like several hundred million years ago. He envisioned a tall stem with a single giant leaf emerging from the edge of a lake. Next to it was another leaf of similar height and dimensions and next to it another. They ringed the perimeter of the mesa. The first action he would take upon returning to the ship would be to date the material. Then he would search for fossilized organic particles. The remainder of their mission plan would have to undergo a drastic revision, and in his mind he was already beginning to formulate the new plan. Suddenly he remembered that they were scheduled to depart in two weeks. This was five days earlier than originally planned. It was to give them sufficient time to use the backup lander, if the
Gagarin
failed to launch. He would recommend pushing their liftoff to the original departure date.
“I will take an impression of it first, then we should extract it.” “Extract it?” Komarov asked doubtfully.
“Of course,” Satomura replied. “We must take it back with us.” “But it’s part of the cliff. Won’t it break apart?”
“Not if we are careful.” Satomura stood up and walked over to the fossil. He examined the surrounding rock. “We should get started. There are only so many hours in a day.”
V
ladimir had bathed for the first time in several days and had shaved off his beard. He was checking himself in the mirror. His hair shone from the gel that held it in place. He had used more than usual that morning because he wanted to make certain that it stayed in place. He opened his mouth to check his teeth. In exactly one minute and thirteen seconds, he was to initiate a private call with his wife. He kept glancing at the clock. He ran his finger across the bare skin of his cheeks and wondered what she would think. She had never said anything about the beard. He found that strange. His eyes were red, and that bothered him. But there was nothing he could do. He should not have drunk so much the night before. Seeing that it was time, he took a deep breath and opened the comm link.
“Hello,” he said, his lips forming a forced smile. She was also smiling, and this made him feel better.
“Hello.”
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Busy.” He could tell that she was scrutinizing his appearance. He looked away from the camera, hoping that she would not notice the redness in his eyes. “With the discovery of the fossil, I’ve barely had time to breathe. Yourself?”
Vladimir wondered why she would ask such a question. She knew as well as he that he had fallen behind on his duties. But from the innocent manner in which she had asked the question and waited for his response, he realized she had not meant anything by it. He knew by the look in her eyes that she wanted the conversation to go well.
“Not so busy,” he said. “Not as much to do up here.” He looked nervously around as if to verify that there was not that much to do.
“You look much healthier,” she said.
“I shaved,” he said in explanation, and pointed at his bare chin. “It was beginning to itch. Tell me about the fossil.”
“It is authentic,” she said. “I am arranging the itinerary for another trip to the geyser. Takashi believes that if there is life to be found, it will be there. He wants to collect additional samples. I think he’s right.”
“Indeed,” said Vladimir. He was surprised at how easily they had avoided the original purpose of the call. “But what about the samples he has already collected? I thought he had examined them for evidence of life.”
“He didn’t find anything,” Tatiana said. “He believes the ice he had collected may have only been permafrost knocked loose by the geyser. He wants to drill for water. The geophones have detected a subsurface river. Although the river itself is too far beneath the surface for our drills to reach, there may be water near the mouth of the geyser. The pressure is so great that it should be able to maintain a liquid form.”
“That sounds dangerous,” Vladimir said.
“You’re not the only one who thinks so, but he has managed to convince them to let him try. He’s going to operate the drill remotely.”
“Does he have the necessary equipment to do that?”
“I’ve helped him rig something up,” she said.
“So he thinks he’ll find life,” Vladimir said, mostly to himself.
“To hear him talk it’s almost a certainty.”
“That would be incredible.” He noticed that Tatiana was stroking her forehead, which he interpreted to mean her mind was elsewhere. He grew uncomfortable. He had been preparing for this moment for the past several days, and now that it had arrived, he felt that everything he had planned to say seemed inappropriate.
“Vladimir,” she said.
“Yes?”
“We are not here to discuss the fossil.”
“Yes,” he agreed hesitantly.
“We are here to discuss us.”
“Yes.”
“I think you should start.”
“Yes,” he said, then became silent as he wondered how he should start. He wanted to tell her that he blamed himself more than her, but then he wasn’t sure that she really knew about Japan. To mention the affair if she did not already know about it would certainly make matters worse. She would be furious. He was growing confused as he tried to think of what he should say. He would tell her that he could forgive her if she just stopped seeing Komarov. That above all else, she had to stop seeing him. “I want us to work things out,” he said.
“And so do I, Vladimir. I have been thinking of you so much lately and cannot bear to see you suffer so. I wish none of this had ever happened.”
He studied her curiously, his face contorting with thought. “Do you really mean what you say?” he asked.
“Yes, every word.” He noticed that there was some hesitancy in her voice.
“You will renounce him?”
“Yes.”
“You admit sleeping with him, then?”
She paused before responding. He could tell that she was trying to make up her mind as to what she should say. If she were to lie, it would be now, he told himself. She almost appeared frightened. It was clear that she did not want to upset him.
“There wasn’t really anything going on,” she said. “He made several advances, yes. But I never gave in. We are good friends, that is all.”
Vladimir’s face underwent a terrible alteration. He raised his fist over his head and sent it crashing down onto the table before him.
“You are lying!” he exclaimed vehemently. “You can’t fool me with your lies. You are sleeping with him. The American, Endicott, has as much as told me so. Admit it. Why can’t you admit this?”
“Vladimir, I . . .” she began.
“Don’t even bother. The guilt is written all over your face. What do you see in him? He doesn’t care about you. He just wants you for sex. Can’t you see that?”
“He doesn’t mean anything to me.” She was trying hard to remain calm.
“He doesn’t mean anything to you,” Vladimir repeated sarcastically. He knew that his anger was out of control and that he would regret what he said later, but he was unable to stop himself. He was pacing back and forth. “Then why the hell are you sleeping with him? How do you suppose that makes me feel? Answer me that.”
“Vladimir, listen to me, I’m not sleeping with him,” she said. “Yes you are,” he said. “Endicott wouldn’t make something like that up.”
“You must have misunderstood him.”
“The deception is over, Tanya.”
“I . . .” she faltered.
He watched her with a growing sense of distaste. She pulled her falling hair back behind her ears and with one hand held it there. Her lips quivered with half-formed words. He took this as a sign of her guilt, and at that instant he imagined Komarov having sex with her. By the time he spoke, his face was bright red with fury.
“You disgust me,” he declared. “I thought you were different, but I was wrong. It’s all over between us. I will not be married to a slut.”
He spat upon the monitor and walked away, calling her names that he knew she must have heard. He went to get the vodka that he kept in his compartment. After he had time to calm down and had finished several drinks, he became upset with himself for having lost his temper. He did not know if she would forgive him. The thought filled him with despair, and he decided to drink until he passed out so that he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.
W
ithin an hour after the cameras had captured the geyser spewing water fifty to sixty meters into the Martian sky, Satomura and Tatiana were aboard the blimp heading for the site. Satomura extracted a laptop from his backpack and plugged it into the main console. Looking over at Tatiana while his programs loaded, he could see that she was distracted.
“How did it go with Vladimir?” he asked.
She spoke for nearly fifteen minutes. Satomura listened as he typed, only once stopping her to ask for clarification on a seemingly trivial point. When she concluded, he closed the laptop and stared out at the red cliffs that dominated the western horizon. He appeared to be keenly interested in their shape.
“I had hoped it would’ve gone better,” he finally said. Tatiana waited as long as her patience would bear. “What can be done?” she asked.
“We must be careful not to upset him further,” Satomura replied. His helmet hid almost his entire profile. The only portion of his face visible to her was the pockmarked tip of his long, rounded nose. “His condition is delicate. You must stop sleeping with Dmitri, of course. Your husband seems to know when you are lying.”
Her immediate reaction was indignation. It was none of the old man’s business with whom she slept. But the firmness in his voice, the certainty that left no doubt he was correct, prevented her from protesting immediately. During all the time she had spent with him, no matter how disagreeable or self-centered he might have been, she had never known Satomura to be wrong. His helmet remained perfectly still, waiting silently for her response.
She did not care for Dmitri in the way she cared for Vladimir. Dmitri was a very handsome man with a winning way about him, but she did not love him. Ending the affair would not cause her any great grief. What troubled her was how Dmitri might react. His persistence in his lovemaking caused Tatiana to think that he might truly love her. But even if he didn’t, he would still take offense. It was his nature. The very thought of him angry with her concerned her greatly. He was a powerful man, and he was her commander, and if he so wished he could do considerable damage to her career. He might even threaten her physically. Oddly enough, it was his power that she found most attractive about him.
As if guessing her thoughts, Satomura said, “I have spoken with Dmitri.”
In her surprise, she did not know whether to be frightened or relieved.
“What did he say?”
“He agreed, under the circumstances, that it would be best,” Satomura said.
She wondered if he had agreed willingly, and made a mental note to press Satomura for details later. For now, she was satisfied, and actually quite relieved.
“Of course,” she said. “You are right.”
“Good,” he replied, and clapped his hands together.
Other than the tapping of Satomura’s keyboard, the remainder of the flight passed mostly in silence. Tatiana brought the dirigible to a halt when it was two hundred meters out from the geyser. It was spewing water nearly sixty meters into the air, and the disturbance it produced in the atmosphere caused the dirigible to rock. Most of the water turned to ice before it struck the ground. They could hear a deep rumbling sound.
“Magnificent,” Satomura muttered.
“I want you to land well outside the radius of the falling debris,” Komarov interjected over the intercom.
“A distance of fifty meters . . .” Tatiana began.
“One hundred,” Komarov countered.
“That should do nicely,” Satomura said, pointing at a spot not quite one hundred meters out. Tatiana directed the dirigible toward the site.
Satomura jumped out of the dirigible and ran toward the geyser without waiting for Tatiana. He stopped at the edge of the geyser, a falling mixture of water and ice, and placed his arms akimbo. Some of the water that struck the ground bubbled up and boiled away before it could freeze. The ice had formed tiny spheres, inside of which the water was still liquid. A misty vapor rose from the ice. The water was actually boiling and freezing at the same time. Satomura was not surprised. The phenomenon resulted from the combination of low atmospheric pressure and subzero temperatures. He knew now that the ice they had collected on their first visit was not just permafrost. It, too, was from the subsurface river, which meant his chances of finding life had diminished, since he had already examined similar samples. He took a step backwards, not to move out of danger, but to obtain a better view of the entire geyser. Tatiana tapped him on the shoulder.
“The ship is secured,” she said, annoyed that he had left her to do this by herself.
“Good,” he responded. After a momentary pause, he swung both arms majestically over his head and held them there, his whole body trembling. “What do you think of it?”
Tatiana glanced up and rapidly took several steps backwards, her look of annoyance transforming to one of astonishment.