—and Pickover had run to Juan’s white-with-green-trim buggy. He was now in the driver’s seat, the canopy still up, and I saw him pound the dash, probably with balled fists, in frustration; the damn thing wouldn’t start.
I brought my left forearm up into the bag and spoke to my phone, telling it to transmit the ON sequence. Nothing happened; the bag had all but emptied of air, and my phone couldn’t hear me speaking, or, if it did, it didn’t recognize my voice. I tried with my one free hand to keep the bag’s mouth reasonably tight around my neck and wrist, and I waited for enough oxygen to be pumped out of the tube for the fabric to puff out a bit, and then I tried again. “Send the ON code to Juan’s buggy!”
I hoped I was close enough. I was still lying on the ground, and would have a devil of a time getting to my feet without using my hands. “Send the ON code to Juan’s buggy!” I shouted again.
The ground shook a bit beneath my chest. I thought perhaps Ernie was running—and that’s a sight I’d have paid to see—but then I heard the Mars buggy’s horn. I arched my neck and risked pulling the bag up enough to see out for a second. Again, there was a cloud of condensation and a blast of arctic air, but through the cloud, I made out Pickover in Juan’s buggy, about a dozen meters in front of me. He still had the canopy up. I pulled the bag down, held it around my neck again, and stumbled toward the vehicle.
I soon felt Pickover’s hands on me—he must have exited the buggy—and he helped me into its driver’s seat, and then he slammed the canopy down from the outside. I emptied my lungs, then pulled the bag up—tugging hard to separate it from the frozen blood on the top of my head—reached forward, hit the switch labeled “Pressurize Cabin,” and waited to breathe until I could feel and hear that there was enough air in the little chamber for me to do so.
I looked through the canopy and tried to take in everything that was happening. The situation had definitely changed: Ernie was standing with his hands held over his head. Lakshmi was back on her feet, air tanks attached and fishbowl securely on, and she had Ernie’s rifle aimed at him. Blondie, meanwhile, was still tending to the fallen Reiko—which I presume meant that Reiko was alive, even if she wasn’t moving.
Pickover was now standing beside the Mars buggy. He waved to catch my attention, then pointed straight ahead. I nodded and floored it, sending the buggy hurtling toward Lakshmi. It was three seconds before she realized what was happening, and when she did, she swung the rifle to fire at me. She managed to hit the windshield three times, each impact sending spider webs of cracks throughout the alloquartz, but she soon realized that she wasn’t going to be able to stop me that way. She bolted in the opposite direction.
I already had the accelerator flush with the floor and just kept going, confident I could mow her down. She was weaving left and right, and I had to yank repeatedly on the steering wheel to keep her dead ahead, but at last the inevitable happened: I was upon her, and—
And she did indeed still have Earthly muscles. She leapt up, up, up just as I was about to run her over, and came down feet first on the little hood of the buggy, her back to me. The springy front wheels compressed as she hit.
We were still speeding forward; I slammed on the brakes in hopes of dislodging her, but she leapt up again as I did so, did a neat half twist in the air, and came down once more, this time with her calves bent back so that she landed on her knees facing me, denting the hood. The buggy had stopped, and she placed the rifle’s muzzle against the center of one of the spider-web patterns her previous shots had made and she swiveled the barrel so she was aiming at my chest. Lakshmi was betting that a point-blank shot at a weak spot would go right through the alloquartz and into me—and that was a bet I didn’t want to take.
Suddenly there was an impact behind me and the car was rocking up and down. I swung my head around to discover that Pickover had jumped onto the trunk, and now was leaping up onto the top of the canopy. He leapt again, this time landing on the hood right in front of Lakshmi, her rifle barrel between his legs. She pulled the gun away from the alloquartz so she could shoot up at him.
There wasn’t room between the canopy and Lakshmi for Pickover to get enough leverage for a decent kick, but he brought his hands down, grabbing her arms just below the shoulders. His left arm worked its way down her right one until it was over the hand holding the rifle, and he tore it from her. He then maneuvered the gun around so that it was aimed at her face, and I waited for her own fishbowl—not to mention the gorgeous head within—to explode.
But Pickover couldn’t bring himself to shoot, and after a few seconds the terror ebbed from Lakshmi’s exquisite features as she realized that. She rolled backward onto her rump, her spine flat against the buggy’s hood, and kicked her legs up into Rory’s armpits, flipping him into the air and sending him sailing over so he came down headfirst toward the planitia. The fall was slow enough that he managed to break it by getting his hands splayed out, but that meant dropping the rifle. Lakshmi spun around on her butt, vaulted from the hood, and scooped up the rifle once more. She didn’t aim it at Rory, but rather at me, and although the canopy might protect me, it also might not, and given that I didn’t have a helmet, Rory clearly decided not to chance rushing her.
Lakshmi hurried around the side of the buggy. I was all set to gun it in reverse, but she stopped before she got behind the vehicle, and—
—and, crap, she reached into the side battery compartment and disconnected the excimer pack. The car’s electrical systems—including life support—shut down just as surely as if I’d sent the OFF code again. Lakshmi then hauled back and threw the battery with all her might as far behind the buggy as she could—which was pretty damn far, thanks to her Earthly muscles, the almost nonexistent air drag, and the feeble Martian gravity.
There was enough oxygen in the canopy to keep me alive for some time, I supposed, but if I cracked the lid to go retrieve the battery, I’d lose it. Lakshmi took off running in the opposite direction from where she’d thrown the excimer pack, and Rory hesitated, trying to decide whether to go after the battery or after her. I guess he decided it was more important to get my air circulating again, and he ran toward the rear.
A movement to the right caught my eye. It was Ernie Gargalian, making a beeline for his airplane. He wasn’t running, but he was walking fast, his arms working back and forth at his sides as he did so. He’d clearly decided to get away, and, in good Simon Weingarten fashion, apparently was content to maroon his partner here at the Alpha Deposit.
FORTY-THREE
Lakshmi, having apparently noticed what Ernie was up to, took off after him, presumably with an eye on the plane’s passenger seat.
The bootleg Pickover hadn’t seen precisely where Lakshmi tossed the excimer pack, and he was now searching around for it. With the buggy’s power off and my fishbowl radio wrecked, I couldn’t give him verbal instructions, although if he would just look back at me, I could at least point in the right direction.
I swiveled my head again to the front. Ernie was standing beside the plane now, turning it around by pulling on the tip of its port wing.
Blondie suddenly picked Reiko up and cradled her in bent arms. Reiko’s body was limp; it reminded me of the poster for Forbidden Planet with Robby the robot holding Altaira. Blondie began running, carrying Reiko. The Amazonian transfer clearly had her sights set on the airplane, too, doubtless realizing it would be the quickest way to get the injured Reiko to the dome.
I turned the other way, and Rory finally looked back at me. I pointed emphatically, and he at last started looking in the right spot. Excimer packs don’t get warm, so I guess his infrared vision was of no help, but—
Finally! He scooped the pack up and jogged back toward the buggy. Lakshmi had left the battery-compartment door open, but it took Rory a while to get the pack seated properly—one of the leads must have gotten bent. When he finally got it in place, I hit the power switch, and the dashboard indicators came to life. I then put my foot on the accelerator. I didn
’t want to ram the plane, but I could at least prevent Ernie from immediately taking off. I drove directly into the middle of the bit of open terrain he and I had used as a landing strip. Ernie had finished rotating the airplane to his satisfaction but now saw that I was in his way.
Blondie had covered most of the distance to the plane already, and Lakshmi had arrived at it. Ernie and Lakshmi started arguing, both gesticulating wildly. But the lady did have the rifle, and after a moment, he waved a hand resignedly at the cockpit, and she clambered into the rear passenger seat.
Ernie was getting in, too, although that took some doing in his eggplant suit. When he was aboard, the teardrop-shaped canopy slid shut over him and Lakshmi, and he started revving his engines; I could see the turbines spinning to life. I moved the buggy even closer, blocking him in. But he seemed willing to try taking off anyway—and, who knows, carbon nanofibers are pretty much indestructible; maybe the plane could survive ramming into the buggy.
The blonde goddess still had a few dozen meters to go. I couldn’t imagine all the bouncing up and down was good for Reiko. The transfer bent down and gently laid Reiko on the ground again. She then did precisely what Ernie had done earlier: she grabbed the tip of the port wing and started rotating the airplane, turning it to face some nasty boulders. The two people aboard probably doubled the weight of the craft, but Blondie seemed to have no trouble with the task. Ernie might have thought his plane could take plowing into a buggy, but he had to realize that having a transfer hanging off the wing would screw up the aerodynamics that were already chancy in this meager atmosphere. He cut the engine and, rather than have Blondie rip the canopy open, he cracked the seal himself and let it slide to the rear.
Ernie knew he didn’t have to get out—he was the trained pilot, after all—but Lakshmi looked like she wasn’t going to budge, either. Blondie had her hands on her hips, annoyed. After about five seconds, she started moving toward the cockpit.
Pickover had now run up to the plane, and was on the opposite side of it from Blondie. Lakshmi’s gun couldn’t do much against either of their artificial bodies, and she at last seemed to think better of being stubborn; after all, if Pickover grabbed her on the left and Blondie on the right, the two transfers could probably rip her in half. Lakshmi lifted herself up out of the rear passenger seat and dropped to the ground. Blondie gestured for Pickover to come around to her side of the plane, and the two of them gently got Reiko into the vacated passenger seat.
I drove the buggy off to one side, Blondie realigned the airplane with the makeshift runway, Ernie gave a jaunty thumbs-up from the pilot’s seat and he set the plane rolling along, the preposterously long wings bouncing up and down a bit as it did so, almost as if they thought flapping might help.
At last, the bird lifted off, climbing into the sky and heading east. I had served as navigator on the way out, but I supposed New Klondike couldn’t be that hard to spot from the air, and soon enough Ernie would be able to lock in on the town’s homing beacon.
That left two transfers and two biologicals here by the Alpha: Pickover and Blondie from Team Silicon and me and Lakshmi on the Carbon side. While I’d been getting the buggy out of the way, Lakshmi had given up her gun. This time, I think she had simply handed it to Rory rather than have him wrench it from her grip; a writer with a broken wrist was going to have a hard time typing, after all.
Rory then came over to the buggy. He and I exchanged discreet hand signs to agree on a frequency so we could have a private chat; I used the buggy’s dashboard radio.
“I guess that’s it for me,” he said.
“Aren’t you coming back to the dome?”
He shook his head. “I won’t go back until I need to recharge; there’s nothing for me there.”
I blew out air. There were things we had to discuss, but this wasn’t the time. “Come see me tomorrow, would you?” I said. “Maybe 2:00 p.m. at my office? There are a few, um, interesting developments you should know about.”
“Not tomorrow. I’m in the middle of excavating a delicate specimen.”
“The day after, then?”
“Fine.” And then he walked the dozen or so meters over to Blondie, gave her Lakshmi’s gun, and headed off, his back to me, walking slowly toward the northern horizon. I watched him go for a bit, thinking.
But my thoughts were interrupted by Blondie rapping knuckles on the canopy. She had propelled Lakshmi over to the other side of the buggy. I figured now that she was unarmed, I could easily take the writer, if need be. Except of course that I was confined to the interior of this buggy by my lack of a helmet. And, it seemed, Blondie wanted Lakshmi to be confined here, too. She was gesturing for me to open the canopy. I’d be just as happy to leave Lakshmi out here to eventually asphyxiate, but Blondie was pretty much in charge now; she had both guns and could force the canopy open from the outside—which might prevent it from ever sealing properly again. I complied with her wish and swung the transparent cover back. The interior atmosphere escaped. I didn’t want to put the sack back on my head—I had my dignity!—and this should only take a second.
The blonde transfer shoved Lakshmi toward the car. Lakshmi glared defiantly for a moment but then acquiesced and pulled herself into the passenger seat. I immediately lowered the canopy and hit the “Pressurize Cabin” button.
“Might as well take off your helmet,” I shouted once the interior was filled with air again. “We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”
Lakshmi made a small nod. She undogged then pulled off her fishbowl and shook out her glorious hair. She held the helmet firmly on her lap rather than putting it in the little storage space behind her; she clearly didn’t trust me not to grab it then crack open the canopy again. Smart girl.
Outside, Blondie slapped a palm against my side of the buggy, urging me to get going. I pressed my foot down, and we began moving forward. The blonde bombshell started running, and I drove behind, letting her set the pace as we headed into the darkness.
FORTY-FOUR
The buggy continued to roll through the night. I looked over at Lakshmi, dimly illuminated by the dashboard. A couple of times her chin dropped toward her chest, but she shook herself awake; she was probably as exhausted as I was but terrified of falling asleep.
“You’re going to have plenty of time to sleep, sister,” I said. “Icing Diana—that wasn’t right.”
“I told you before, I didn’t kill her,” she said, looking at me.
“If you didn’t, who did?”
“I don’t know. She was dead when I got there.”
“I need something better than that. Your phone call from inside Weingarten and O’Reilly’s descent stage was overheard by the ship’s computer. You said Diana was your insurance policy.”
“Exactly!” Lakshmi exclaimed “She was no good to me dead. But, as I said to Reiko in that conversation, if I had Diana alive, I could control you.”
“But then you discovered that Diana was planting a bug for me at your place, and so you let her have it.”
“I didn’t, I swear.”
“I don’t have a lot of reasons to trust you.”
“Maybe not. But look at it this way: if I’m lying, fine—you’ve got her killer. But if I’m not, then somebody who wanted Diana dead is still out there—and you could be their next target.”
“I can take care of myself,” I said.
“The way you took care of her?”
That stung, but I refused to let it show. More kilometers passed by.
* * *
At last, we reached the vicinity of the dome. Blondie had effortlessly run the whole way. We headed to the north airlock station, since that was the one Lakshmi had logged the buggy out through, and, sure enough, Ernie’s ungainly airplane was parked near there, safe and sound.
Normally, I’d have left the buggy outside, but I still didn’t have a helmet, and so I drove it into the airlock tunnel. The outer door closed behind us, and we waited while the tube was brought up to one standard atmo
sphere; Blondie, meanwhile, went through the personnel airlock, which cycled much more quickly. By the time the door in front of me slid up, she was already on the other side waiting, along with, I was surprised to see, Dougal McCrae.
I swung back the buggy’s canopy and clambered out of the vehicle. Mac moved quickly to the passenger side. “Lakshmi Chatterjee?” he said.
“Yes?”
“You’re under arrest.”
“What for?”
“One of our leading citizens, Mr. Ernest Gargalian, says you pulled a gun on him.”
Lakshmi gestured dismissively. “What if I did? If it happened at all, it was outside your jurisdiction.”
Mac stood firm. “You’ll come with me,” he said. I was grinning. Lakshmi probably had thought herself clever buying Huxley’s support, but Ernie could afford to buy himself the top dog. The writer protested a bit more, but there really wasn’t anything she could do, and Mac soon had her cuffed. He turned to me. “Alex, I’ll expect a full report on everything.”
“Of course, Mac. I’ll drop by the station later.”
“You do that,” he said, and he led Lakshmi away—which left just me and Blondie alone here. The gorgeous transfer rushed over to me, and—
Wow!
She threw her arms around me and drew me close, and with that lovely mouth of hers, she planted a long, hard kiss on my lips. There was no doubt I deserved some thanks after all of this, and if this was to be the payment, I couldn’t really complain, but—
But the kiss went on and on, and when Blondie finally drew away, a giant grin spread across her stunning features. And now that we were in real air again, she could speak. I didn’t recognize the voice at all; it was sultry, sexy, and totally captivating. “Thank you so much!” she said. “As soon as we got close enough to phone, I contacted Ernie. He said Reiko went into surgery hours ago and is already out and in recovery; she’s going to be fine.” She gave me another kiss on the lips, then added, “Thank you, Alex!”