Lauren said. She touched the barrel, and felt the comforting hardness of its cold metal.
'May I turn out the lights?' Jim asked. He stood beside the projector. 'I want to see these footprints before the sand covers them over.'
'Sure,' Gary said. He set down the laser. 'Boy, I have to hand it to you, Jim. You were real y going at him. I think he spil ed a few things he hadn't
intended.'
Jim shook his head and flipped off the lights. The Martian landscape reappeared on the screen. 'The only thing he spil ed was his confusion. He
couldn't have answered any questions if he wanted to.'
The silence they had experienced at their first glimpse returned, as the red world held their attention. Lauren wondered how she had missed the
footprints to begin with. They appeared obvious now, yet stil mysterious, arousing a powerful curiosity in her, seemingly cal ing to her. Come, Lori,
fol ow my trail. I wil lead you to places you never dreamed of. It was difficult to turn away.
'The more you look at them,' Gary said, 'it's weird - the more you see.'
'Yeah,' Lauren whispered. i
'The more you look,' Jim agreed. 'The president must have looked at them for a long time. I'm sure they al did.'
Lauren tore her eyes away and turned to Jim. She studied his ascetic profile in the crimson light. When she had gone to fetch him after wrestling
with Gary, she had found him sitting with his head down on his desk, in the dark. When she had turned on the light, she had found his eyes red.
'What are you thinking, Jim?' she asked now. 'Why were you asking those questions?'
He appeared not to hear her at first, and the mannerism was very much like Jennifer's. He stared at the alien terrain as if he were actual y there,
planting his own feet in each of the footprints, fol owing the beast. At last, however, he sighed and looked away. 'I was only thinking about the
Russians, Lauren. They probably brought lasers with them, too.'
'Oh,' Lauren said. Then the footprints cal ed to her once more, and she looked their way. They were definitely larger than a human's, and the way
they spread at the end, it was hard to think of toes, and not claws. A dark voice crossed her mind, the voice of a nightmare she stil hadn't forgotten.
Come, Lori. Come.
NINE
The space shuttle waited for his woman, three miles away on the launch pad, bathed in the soft glow of the pre-dawn sky and the harsh beams of a
dozen searchlights. It pointed at the sky like a multiheaded spear, and Terry hated the sight of it. Somebody of importance had decided that he and
Jennifer were only to be given a few minutes to say goodbye to Lauren. Since four in the morning he had stood with Jennifer near the entrance to
the isolation complex. It was now five-thirty, half an hour before Lauren would leave the complex and board the shuttle, but two and a half hours
before the shuttle would actual y take off. The excitement was kil ing him, and making him want to kil the people who wouldn't let him inside.
Terry did not feel wel . He had an incredible case of heartburn, which was odd because he hadn't eaten in the last twenty-four hours. The ulcer he
had considered getting for several years was making a strong case for itself this morning. He hugged Jennifer against his chest. They were
surrounded by people, reporters like himself, and important people like his fiancée. Cameras stared at Jennifer and him to record how brave loved
ones could be. It was al bul shit, he felt like crying. Official y, he was on assignment for his paper, but he wasn't taking any notes. A tal fence
separated them from the general public. On the other side, mixed in with the moms and pops and kiddies from across the country, was a group of
hecklers. They were members of a cult Terry was vaguely familiar with - The Paul. Paul himself wasn't around at the moment, but his disciples were
doing their best. They chanted slogans and carried banners questioning the integrity of the mission. Apparently they believed
'May I turn out the lights?' Jim asked. He stood beside the projector. 'I want to see these footprints before the sand covers them over.'
'Sure,' Gary said. He set down the laser. 'Boy, I have to hand it to you, Jim. You were real y going at him. I think he spil ed a few things he hadn't
intended.'
Jim shook his head and flipped off the lights. The Martian landscape reappeared on the screen. 'The only thing he spil ed was his confusion. He
couldn't have answered any questions if he wanted to.'
The silence they had experienced at their first glimpse returned, as the red world held their attention. Lauren wondered how she had missed the
footprints to begin with. They appeared obvious now, yet stil mysterious, arousing a powerful curiosity in her, seemingly cal ing to her. Come, Lori,
fol ow my trail. I wil lead you to places you never dreamed of. It was difficult to turn away.
'The more you look at them,' Gary said, 'it's weird - the more you see.'
'Yeah,' Lauren whispered. i
'The more you look,' Jim agreed. 'The president must have looked at them for a long time. I'm sure they al did.'
Lauren tore her eyes away and turned to Jim. She studied his ascetic profile in the crimson light. When she had gone to fetch him after wrestling
with Gary, she had found him sitting with his head down on his desk, in the dark. When she had turned on the light, she had found his eyes red.
'What are you thinking, Jim?' she asked now. 'Why were you asking those questions?'
He appeared not to hear her at first, and the mannerism was very much like Jennifer's. He stared at the alien terrain as if he were actual y there,
planting his own feet in each of the footprints, fol owing the beast. At last, however, he sighed and looked away. 'I was only thinking about the
Russians, Lauren. They probably brought lasers with them, too.'
'Oh,' Lauren said. Then the footprints cal ed to her once more, and she looked their way. They were definitely larger than a human's, and the way
they spread at the end, it was hard to think of toes, and not claws. A dark voice crossed her mind, the voice of a nightmare she stil hadn't forgotten.
Come, Lori. Come.
NINE
The space shuttle waited for his woman, three miles away on the launch pad, bathed in the soft glow of the pre-dawn sky and the harsh beams of a
dozen searchlights. It pointed at the sky like a multiheaded spear, and Terry hated the sight of it. Somebody of importance had decided that he and
Jennifer were only to be given a few minutes to say goodbye to Lauren. Since four in the morning he had stood with Jennifer near the entrance to
the isolation complex. It was now five-thirty, half an hour before Lauren would leave the complex and board the shuttle, but two and a half hours
before the shuttle would actual y take off. The excitement was kil ing him, and making him want to kil the people who wouldn't let him inside.
Terry did not feel wel . He had an incredible case of heartburn, which was odd because he hadn't eaten in the last twenty-four hours. The ulcer he
had considered getting for several years was making a strong case for itself this morning. He hugged Jennifer against his chest. They were
surrounded by people, reporters like himself, and important people like his fiancée. Cameras stared at Jennifer and him to record how brave loved
ones could be. It was al bul shit, he felt like crying. Official y, he was on assignment for his paper, but he wasn't taking any notes. A tal fence
separated them from the general public. On the other side, mixed in with the moms and pops and kiddies from across the country, was a group of
hecklers. They were members of a cult Terry was vaguely familiar with - The Paul. Paul himself wasn't around at the moment, but his disciples were
doing their best. They chanted slogans and carried banners questioning the integrity of the mission. Apparently they believed
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