Part 11 (1/2)

'That's good,' Jim said. He seemed preoccupied. Lauren thought of his puzzling att.i.tude toward the Rover's pictures. If she didn't ask him now, she might forget when they woke up.

'Are you thinking about the footprints?' she asked.

'The footprints.' He frowned. 'I guess we all are.'

'But they bother you for different reasons than the rest of us. Tell me, Jim, what is it?'

He smiled his kind smile. Except for the faint colored glows of b.u.t.tons and dials, and the soft hum of equipment, the Nova was dark and quiet. For the first time, Lauren felt the full impact of having left Earth. Yet Jim's nearness was comforting.

'When I was a child,' he said, 'someone donated a telescope to the orphanage where I lived. I was interested in astronomy already, and the instrument was like a gift from heaven. Almost every night I would go out and look at the sky for hours, especially when Mars was up. For some reason, it always held a special fascination for me. Of course, the telescope could show scarcely any detail on the planet. But I had heard of the famous Martian ca.n.a.ls, and for a long time I tried to see them. I must have been about ten at the time. There was no halfway knowledgeable adult around to tell me there were no ca.n.a.ls. So I kept searching, night after night, and eventually I saw them. Quite clearly, if I remember right. I was so happy. I could hardly sleep for thinking about them. I would stay awake and imagine how great the Martian engineers must have been to construct ca.n.a.ls that circled their entire planet. But not long after that I read a library book that said the ca.n.a.ls were an illusion. The book said that the famous astronomers, Lowell and Schiaparelli, had only imagined that they had seen them. I was disappointed, but in time I accepted the reality of the situation, and stopped seeing them myself. But even as a child I often wondered how such a great astronomer as Lowell, with a respectable telescope, could have made such a stupendous error. The theory that they were generated by his technique of occasionally placing a diaphragm over the lens of his telescope never made sense to me. In this technique - it's called ”stopping down” - two bright patches sometimes bleed a dark line in between them. But you see, Lowell not only saw the ca.n.a.ls, but drew intricate maps of them. Stopping down would have produced two or three illusionary images at best. No, Lowell saw the ca.n.a.ls he drew on his maps, there is no doubt in my mind. Once he said that the more he looked at Mars, the clearer they became to him. And he wasn't alone. Several others confirmed his sightings.' Jim paused. 'Yet there are no ca.n.a.ls.'

'I don't understand,' Lauren said, understanding more than she wanted to admit. At first she hadn't seen any footprints, and then - once they had been pointed out to her - they had been perfectly clear. And so fascinating.

'I don't either,' Jim said, beginning to fade under the effects of the Antabolene. 'It worries me.'

'But how could this common illusion affect us?'

Jim closed his eyes. 'Lowell saw ca.n.a.ls from millions of miles away. We'll be walking in that place.'

'But?'

Too late. Jim was asleep. The discussion would have to continue in a few months. Lauren felt an eerie chill in her stomach as she looked down at him. Jim reminded her of her father. They both seemed so wise. They even looked similar: sun-beaten skin, thinning gray hair, lines of hards.h.i.+ps and triumphs etched in their faces. If Jim could not take care of them, no one could.

Lauren returned to her monitors. Everyone was doing nicely. Now it was her turn. She stripped and took a hot shower, afterwards putting on a pair of white shorts and an oversized Houston Oilers T-s.h.i.+rt. Then she climbed into her hibernaculum and repeated the machine-flesh fusion that she had accomplished on the others. She felt no fear of the process. A year ago she had undergone a practice hibernation in Houston that had lasted seven days. She had awoken feeling wonderful; full of energy. And in the event of an emergency, Friend would wake her.

Lauren fitted two clear plastic tubes into the artery shunt on her left arm and turned on the circulator. Quickly the Antabolene began to flood her system, bringing with it a sudden wave of drowsiness. She opened a final line to Houston and they wished her sweet dreams. For a long time she rested, following the heartbeats of her friends as they traced rhythmic green lines across the screens above her head. She felt herself drifting away, but also felt a sudden need to say a last goodbye to Earth. She hauled herself into an upright position where she could peer out a portal beside her hibernaculum. Unfortunately the revolution of the Nova had momentarily placed the s.h.i.+p's spine between her and Earth. She did not have the strength to wait for the Nova to wing her around to the other side. She fell back exhausted, experiencing a vague foreboding that she would never see her world again.

'Friend?' she whispered.

[Yes, Lauren?]

'What are the odds that I will return from Mars?'

[91.762 percent, Lauren.]

She yawned. 'Those are pretty good odds.'

[Yes, Lauren.]

'But why aren't they a hundred percent?'

[There are many unknown factors, Lauren. For example, the Hawk's main thruster efficiency has not been critically rated under ideal...]

Lauren heard only a part of the reasons why. She sank swiftly, as soft hands slipped gentle reins of thoughtlessness over her mind, easing her down into a gray field of oblivion. This was how death would be, she thought, a peaceful void. But before that time came she must ask Jim once more about why people saw ca.n.a.ls on Mars, and why he gave Jennifer a s.h.i.+ny silver ring and told her to wear it. Before that final end came she had to see, at least one last time, her Princess.

BOOK_TWO.

Chaneen.

ELEVEN.

Excerpts from Jennifer Wagner's Story.

In the Garden, on the edge of the vast ocean, and the borders of the tall mountains, lived the people ofSastra, the first and greatest of human beings. Because they were from the beginning, they were untarnished, beautiful and wise, of fair form and kind desire. Their king was Rankar, mightiest of the Sastra, and their queen, Chaneen, loveliest of the offspring of the G.o.ds. They were man and wife, the parents of the children and the guardians of mankind. Their powers were a mystery. Often Rankar could be found communing with the G.o.ds, seeking the knowledge of the immortals. But although Chaneen shared Rankar's abilities to contact the higher beings, it was in her heart to care for the Garden, to bring life and joy from the ground, and to make blessed the dwelling of her people. Seldom did she call upon the G.o.ds, being content to walk under the sun of her own world.

For countless cycles the Garden enjoyed peace, forgetting even the bitter war with the Asurians long ago. But it came to pa.s.s one day that an amba.s.sador from Asure arrived on the outskirts of the mountains that sheltered the Gardenfrom the desert. He begged permission to enter the Garden and exchange counsel with King Rankar. The news was brought to Rankar and Chaneen while they rested in their palace, near the pool of sacred waters where the stars shone bright at night. Janier, Chaneen's sister, and much loved among the Sastra, brought the tidings along with her husband, Tier, who had won great renown during the ancient war with the Asurians. Bowing low before their King and Queen, they advised that the request of the Asurian amba.s.sador be denied. Rankar considered the news and the advice with a long silence. Finally he spoke.

'What does the amba.s.sador give for a name, and how many of his people accompany him?'

Janier answered, 'There are but two who stand by his side, my Lord. 'She lowered her voice. 'It is Kratine himself who seeks entrance.'

At the mention of Kratine, a shadow fell over Chaneen's heart. Kratine was Asure, the land and its people, the King who had decreed that his race should inhabit the Garden. It was Kratine who had been responsible for the death of so many of her children. Only by Rankar's invocation of the Fire Messenger had the Sastra been able to defeat Kratine's army cycles ago. Scars of those battles, memories Chaneen wished to forget, returned vividly in her thoughts.

'Why would you have me turn Kratine away at our doorstep?' Rankar asked Janier. 'Would that put an end to whatever threat he may have devised since we last warred with him?'

'Perhaps not, my Lord,' Janier said. 'But the thought of him entering our home revolts me. I feel only grief will follow should he come into the Garden.'

I agree,' Tier said. 'Better the enemy at our doorstep than in our home. Kratine is too dangerous a force to be allowed to move among our people. I beg you deny his request, my Lord.'

'Perhaps he has come in peace,' Rankar said, 'and we would be in violation of the natural order to shun him.'

'Impossible,' Tier said.

I respectfully implore my Lord not to forget the past, 'Janier said.

Rankar turned to Chaneen. 'What are your thoughts, my wife? Amongst us four, you alone did not fight the Asurians last time. Your view may be the clearest. Should we hear what Kratine has to say?'

Chaneen hesitated before answering. She had no desire to be involved in matters that could lead to death and destruction. Rankar knew that. Why did he ask her? He must have his reasons. He always did.

'You are my King,' Chaneen said. I see already it is your desire to face him again. Do so.'

Rankar turned back to Janier and Tier. 'Allow Kratine to pa.s.s our borders. But keep his two companions at bay, and send a swift group of scouts over the mountains and into the desert beyond. See if these three Asurians are the only ones who want to enter our land.'

'I implore you to consider longer upon this matter,' Tier said.

'Myself included, my Lord, 'Janier said. 'He is hideous.'

Rankar bowed his head. I have already considered this matter for longer than you know. That is why I bid you do as I say.'

Janier and Tier bowed and left.

That evening, close to sunset, a late-night chill arrived on the lap of a foul-smelling breeze. It was then Janier and Tier returned to the palace with Kratine, standing to either side of him, their swords drawn. Chaneen and Rankar greeted the Asurian King in their throne room, which was open to the sky, and had streams of flowing water on either side.

'Kratine,' Rankar said. 'We pray you have come in peace and welcome you in such spirit.'

Kratine bowed low in respect. Chaneen was surprised at his physical form. He did not appear as an Asurian should, but rather, as a human being. How cunning of Kratine, Chaneen thought, to try and soothe their memories by taking such a shape. Yet she was not deceived. Looking into Kratine's eyes, which regarded her with a semblance of warmth, she saw only hate.