Free Red Desert - Point of No Return by Rita Carla Francesca Monticelli Page B

single time I faced something I really
cared for, afraid of getting hurt.
    Warm tears roll down
my face, while my body shakes. Only a pale westward afterglow is
what remains of the sun, which barely lights the canyon, making the
details more and more undefined.
    Crawling on my knees
and my hands, I drag myself to the edge of the rock. I could let
myself fall and die in a moment, without having to suffer the agony
of cold and pain. But I don’t even have the strength to do it.
    I lean against a
boulder and gaze at Earth once more. I wonder if I’ll die before it
disappears from my sight.
    Slowly I lose the
perception of my body. It seems to me I can see Jan seated beside
me. He holds my hand and whispers words I can’t understand. Or
perhaps it’s the wind.
    “Look at that light,”
his voice says in my head.
    I try to follow the
direction he’s pointing in. There’s a light down there in the
middle of the darkness, in the valley. It’s getting closer and will
soon surround me.
    My eyelids become
heavy. It’s time to let myself go.
     
     
    An unbearable heat.
The seatbelts were holding me so tight under the acceleration
thrust that I could barely breathe. Every part of the Isis was vibrating, causing a deep rumble. She seemed about to
break.
    I could see Dennis’s
seat in front of me, with his helmet sticking out. Beyond were the
spacecraft’s controls, useless at that very moment.
    Then the sky became
clear and the lander stabilised.
    “Okay, we’ve entered
the atmosphere and we are still in one piece,” Dennis exclaimed.
The intonation of his voice revealed an evident satisfaction.
    His announcement was
welcomed by Michelle and Robert’s jubilation. I was too busy trying
not to vomit.
    “But don’t relax too
much,” he added then. “We still have to land.”
    “The hull seems
intact,” Hassan said, in a serious tone. Seated on the co-pilot’s
seat, he was checking the information provided by the on-board
computer. “Life support is working at one 100%. Secondary
parachutes are armed. Primary parachutes are armed. Airbags are
armed. The descent trajectory is within the defined limits.”
    “Alright, brace
yourselves.” Dennis’s satisfaction had become excitement.
    “Commander, we are
tied like salami, we don’t need to brace ourselves,” Robert
joked.
    Michelle laughed and
turned to look at me. “You alright?”
    I did nothing but nod.
I wasn’t as hot as earlier, but I continued to be in a cold sweat,
in the grip of nausea.
    “Activation of
secondary parachutes,” Dennis announced.
    Soon after I perceived
an abrupt braking. It flattened me against my seat, causing a
temporary sense of relief. Then the Isis resumed
pitching.
    “There’s a strong wind
against us,” Hassan explained. “It’s forcing us to go down too
straight.”
    “Okay, activation of
rear propulsion,” Dennis said. “In three, two, one … ignition!”
    I noticed a slight
acceleration forward, and then it seemed as if the ship had
stopped, except that I could still see the landscape moving past
us.
    It was an enormous red
desert, a flatland, which spread out as far as the eye could see.
For the first time I was looking at Mars’s surface with my own
eyes. The rosy sky stopped abruptly, giving way to a rust-coloured
terrain. The sun shone high, lighting that beautiful and, at the
same time, disquieting sight. Almost without realising it, I
started smiling.
    “We are again en
route,” Hassan notified. “But we are going down a bit too
quickly.”
    “Prepare primary
parachutes,” Dennis said.
    “Ready!”
    “Activation of primary
parachutes.”
    This time the braking
was more violent. Michelle and I let slip an exclamation on the
rebound.
    “Altitude three
thousand metres,” Hassan said.
    “Station Alpha
detected.” This time the inexpressive voice of the on-board unit’s
artificial intelligence spoke; it had remained silent since Dennis
took the manual control.
    On the main screen a
bright point was