Free Mars Life by Ben Bova Page B

their minds: How will this look on my resume?
    He added, “Of course, we’ll also be sifting through the digging to look for fossils. Even artifacts, eventually.”
    No one said another word. They shifted uneasily on their feet, thinking, weighing, pondering.
    “If any of you wants to talk to me individually,” Carleton said, “I’ll be happy to go into as much detail as you like.”
    Lorenz said, “Five of you will be able to stay on Mars. Your work will not be the same as you have been doing, but you may have an opportunity to help uncover great discoveries.”
    Chang added, “You have five days to make your decisions. In five days rocket from Earth will take up orbit above us. By then you must decide if you wish to remain to assist Dr. Carleton or return home.”
    “Can we get credits in anthropology out of this?” one of the younger men asked.
    Carleton smiled at him. “If you like I’ll give colloquia on anthropology.”
    Doreen piped up, “I might be able to arrange for Selene University to give course credits for working on the dig.”
    “Very good,” said Chang. “Five days to make a decision.” He put his cup down on the corner of the nearest table and glanced at his wristwatch. “It is late. Past ten o’clock. We all have much work to do tomorrow.”
    With that, the mission director turned and walked back through the crowd, heading for his private quarters.
    “He is right,” said Yvonne Lorenz. “We shall have to unload the plane and prepare for departure in five days.”
    The crowd started to break up and drift toward their individual cubicles. Doreen stood uncertainly beside Carleton. He could see the doubt in her eyes.
    Drawing in a breath, he said, “I’m sorry about my boorish behavior. I just didn’t like the way that kid was looking at you.”
    She smiled a little. “You were awfully gruff with him.”
    “Maybe,” he acknowledged.
    “Possessive.”
    “The word you’re looking for is dominant.”
    She didn’t reply, but she allowed Carleton to lead her across the floor of the dome to the flimsy accordion-fold door of his compartment. All the others were entering their own spaces, most singly, although there were several couples. Doreen scanned the area for Graycloud but didn’t see him. The others pointedly ignored Carleton and Doreen McManus as he stood in front of his door, gazing steadily into her wide, gray green eyes.
    “They’re all going to know about this,” he said to her, almost solemnly.
    She made a little shrug. “Everybody knows about everybody here. It’s okay.”
    “I’m an accused rapist, back Earthside.”
    “That’s a hundred million kilometers away,” Doreen said.
    He said, “Eighty-three million, two hundred thousand klicks, as of this morning. I checked.”
    Doreen smiled up at him. “You want to, don’t you?”
    He smiled at her. “When love speaks,” he quoted, “the voice of all the Gods makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.”
    Holding her arm gently, he slid open the door of his cubicle with his other hand, glad that he had put clean sheets on his bunk that morning.

ALBUQUERQUE: UNIVERSITY OF NEW MEXICO

    The day after Jamie returned from Washington the terrorist attack struck the campus.
    He was in his office, on the phone with Dex Trumball, trying to make arrangements for his flight to Mars.
    “You want to go back?” Dex asked, his image on the wall screen showing the disapproval that he tried to keep out of his voice.
    “I have to,” said Jamie.
    “Why? To preside over the funeral?”
    “To try to keep the program alive. There isn’t going to be any funeral, not if I can help it.”
    Dex shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense, Jamie. There’s nothing you can do there that you can’t do here.”
    “I’ve got to go.”
    “Don’t get mystical on me. And don’t—”
    Three explosions rocked the building, so close together they sounded like the beats of an enormous ceremonial drum. The window of Jamie’s office