a range of terraced hills, glistening white with carbon dioxide and water frost. They rose one above the other until they faded into the polar darkness.
What seemed like hours passed, and then they picked up a call from MAR/S-6. “We’ve landed, guys,” the pilot said. “Two of us will come to lead you back. The other two are going to dump everything we don’t need so there’ll be room. Sorry to hear about Jappa.”
“Well, we’re safe,” Sean said to Mickey.
“
You
are,” the older boy said bitterly.
8.3
The flight back to Marsport took hours, and it was doubly uncomfortable for Sean and Mickey. The MAR/S-6 had jettisoned a lot of equipment, but it still had only four seats installed, and no one wanted to take time to move two more from the wrecked plane. Mickey and Sean sat on the deck, hanging on to the seats in front of them for takeoff and landing.
Sean was never as glad to arrive anywhere as he was to step through the airlock and into the hangar back at Marsport. Jenny was there waiting, and she ran forward, relief flooding her face. “You’re all right!” she said to Sean and Mickey. “Thank God!”
“I’m frozen into a Doe-sicle, but other than that I’m fine,” Sean said. His joints ached with cold, and he felt as if he’d never be warm again. “I hope we got enough data before the crash.”
“You did fine,” Jenny told him. “The ships have enough readings to show that the mass driver onGanymede doesn’t need adjusting. Next month some follow-up crews will go out and pick up the equipment you left behind, and they’ll finish any observations that you had to leave incomplete. Come on, let’s get back to the dorms.”
“How’s Jappa?” Mickey asked, his voice fretful.
Jenny looked at him, then at Sean. “You haven’t heard? She—she didn’t make it.”
Mickey froze. He glared at her. “You’re lying!”
“There was nothing they could do,” Jenny said. “I’m sorry.”
With a bitter curse, Mickey shoved past them and vanished down a corridor. Sean looked after him. “He thinks it’s his fault.”
“Was it?” Jenny asked.
“I don’t know,” Sean told her. “But he thinks it is, and that’s bad enough.”
“There’s worse,” Jenny said. “We’ve lost contact with Earth. Nothing since yesterday morning,” she said. “Something terrible’s happening there. The Lunatics say they can’t raise Earth, either. Luna Basehas been monitoring conditions on Earth, and they know there’s an economic meltdown. You know history?”
Sean gave her a look.
Jenny’s smile was miserable. “Course you do, with your grades. Remember the depression in the middle of the Twentieth Century?”
“Earlier than that,” Sean said. “It started in 1929.”
“This is a hundred times worse, they say. And there are five or six epidemics going on, and some terrorist activity hitting the power grid, and … it looks bad.”
They had reached the dorms. No one was in the common area, and Sean and Jenny sat at a table. Sean was frowning. “I felt something like this was coming,” he said. “I didn’t know exactly what—war, plague, collapse—but I could tell something really bad was brewing. What does that mean for us?”
“The council is talking about evacuating Marsport,” Jenny said. “And the Asimov Project kids will be the first to go.”“No,” Sean said at once. “Not me.”
“And not me,” Jenny added. “If things on Earth are as bad as you say they are, there’s no point. I’d rather take my chances here. But I know the council has told the
Argosy
to prepare to take on passengers, and the
Magellan
is due to launch from Earth orbit any day now. Between the two of them, if they carry no cargo but passengers, they’d be able to ferry a thousand colonists back to Earth. It’ll take three trips, about nine more years, but they could take everyone back eventually.”
“I’ll leave when Amanda does,” Sean said. “Not before.”
“Count me in,”
What seemed like hours passed, and then they picked up a call from MAR/S-6. “We’ve landed, guys,” the pilot said. “Two of us will come to lead you back. The other two are going to dump everything we don’t need so there’ll be room. Sorry to hear about Jappa.”
“Well, we’re safe,” Sean said to Mickey.
“
You
are,” the older boy said bitterly.
8.3
The flight back to Marsport took hours, and it was doubly uncomfortable for Sean and Mickey. The MAR/S-6 had jettisoned a lot of equipment, but it still had only four seats installed, and no one wanted to take time to move two more from the wrecked plane. Mickey and Sean sat on the deck, hanging on to the seats in front of them for takeoff and landing.
Sean was never as glad to arrive anywhere as he was to step through the airlock and into the hangar back at Marsport. Jenny was there waiting, and she ran forward, relief flooding her face. “You’re all right!” she said to Sean and Mickey. “Thank God!”
“I’m frozen into a Doe-sicle, but other than that I’m fine,” Sean said. His joints ached with cold, and he felt as if he’d never be warm again. “I hope we got enough data before the crash.”
“You did fine,” Jenny told him. “The ships have enough readings to show that the mass driver onGanymede doesn’t need adjusting. Next month some follow-up crews will go out and pick up the equipment you left behind, and they’ll finish any observations that you had to leave incomplete. Come on, let’s get back to the dorms.”
“How’s Jappa?” Mickey asked, his voice fretful.
Jenny looked at him, then at Sean. “You haven’t heard? She—she didn’t make it.”
Mickey froze. He glared at her. “You’re lying!”
“There was nothing they could do,” Jenny said. “I’m sorry.”
With a bitter curse, Mickey shoved past them and vanished down a corridor. Sean looked after him. “He thinks it’s his fault.”
“Was it?” Jenny asked.
“I don’t know,” Sean told her. “But he thinks it is, and that’s bad enough.”
“There’s worse,” Jenny said. “We’ve lost contact with Earth. Nothing since yesterday morning,” she said. “Something terrible’s happening there. The Lunatics say they can’t raise Earth, either. Luna Basehas been monitoring conditions on Earth, and they know there’s an economic meltdown. You know history?”
Sean gave her a look.
Jenny’s smile was miserable. “Course you do, with your grades. Remember the depression in the middle of the Twentieth Century?”
“Earlier than that,” Sean said. “It started in 1929.”
“This is a hundred times worse, they say. And there are five or six epidemics going on, and some terrorist activity hitting the power grid, and … it looks bad.”
They had reached the dorms. No one was in the common area, and Sean and Jenny sat at a table. Sean was frowning. “I felt something like this was coming,” he said. “I didn’t know exactly what—war, plague, collapse—but I could tell something really bad was brewing. What does that mean for us?”
“The council is talking about evacuating Marsport,” Jenny said. “And the Asimov Project kids will be the first to go.”“No,” Sean said at once. “Not me.”
“And not me,” Jenny added. “If things on Earth are as bad as you say they are, there’s no point. I’d rather take my chances here. But I know the council has told the
Argosy
to prepare to take on passengers, and the
Magellan
is due to launch from Earth orbit any day now. Between the two of them, if they carry no cargo but passengers, they’d be able to ferry a thousand colonists back to Earth. It’ll take three trips, about nine more years, but they could take everyone back eventually.”
“I’ll leave when Amanda does,” Sean said. “Not before.”
“Count me in,”
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