Ben Bova – Mars. Part four

Tapping a fingernail against the screen, Jamie said, “I’d like to arrive here, at this point.”

Abell said, “That’s not exactly where Father DiNardo indicated in his mission plan, is it?”

“Not quite. I’ve been thinking about this traverse all during our flight here. This spot here is a branching point. I can look at three canyons from there.” Leaning forward enough to reach the keyboard, Jamie punched up an enlargement of the region. “You see? There’s slumping here; a landslide. And clear fracture lines…”

“Yes, yes,” said Vosnesensky impatiently. “That is permissible. We can get you to that point.”

“Good.”

“I have decided to drive the rover myself,” Vosnesensky said.

Jamie glanced at Connors. The American did not seem surprised. Jamie realized that he had been keeping his eyes focused on the display screen because he was angry. The astronaut’s lips were pressed together in a grim tight line.

“I thought the mission plan called for Pete to drive the rover.”

“I have changed the plan,” Vosnesensky said flatly.

“Why?”

“This is no reflection on Pete. He will still command one of the other traverses and fly the soarplane.”

“But why change the mission plan?” Jamie insisted.

Mironov’s smile had gradually dwindled. He said, “This has nothing to do with politics, I assure you.”

Which immediately made Jamie think that it was entirely due to national pride and competition. Or at least some form of rivalry between the Russians and the Americans.

Connors finally spoke up. “It’s cool, Jamie. We talked it over. Mike just wants to take the first traverse himself.” Forcing a humorless grin, the astronaut added, “It’s part of Mike’s god complex. He’s afraid something’ll go wrong if he’s not there running the show himself.”

Mikhail Vosnesensky made himself smile back at Connors. “I have no intention of flying the soarplane. You may have that honor entirely to yourself.”

Connors nodded and turned back toward the display screen.

Jamie asked, “Do we start the traverse as scheduled?”

“In two days, yes.”

“The only change,” Mironov said, “is to substitute Mikhail Andreivitch as your chauffeur.”

“Does Dr. Li know about this?” Jamie asked.

“He will be informed. I do not expect him to object,” Vosnesensky said.

With a shrug, Jamie said, “Well, I guess it’s okay then.”

Mironov got to his feet and Vosnesensky lumbered up from his chair a fraction of a second after him. For a wild moment Jamie got the impression that Mironov was in charge, not Vosnesensky. Vaguely he recalled that the Russians used to have political officers among their men who worked at subsidiary jobs but were actually the real bosses.

As the two Russians walked away, Connors said earnestly, “Listen, Jamie, the last thing I want is for a Soviet-American rivalry to break out here.”

“But why’d he do it?” Jamie asked.

Leaning his forearms on his knees, Connors answered, “I think he really has a god complex. He thinks that if he’s in charge nothing will go wrong. It’s the first overland traverse and he’s nervous about it.”

Abell looked skeptical but said nothing.

“You don’t mind being bumped?” Jamie asked.

Connors leaned back again, away from him. “Sure I mind! Shit, who wouldn’t mind? But like the man said, there’ll be other traverses. Let him take the first one; it’s okay. I’ll do the soarplane flying; he can’t talk me out of that.”

Abell grunted. “So our friend Mike gets to play god, but he lets you be the angel.”

Connors tapped Abell on the shoulder and got up from his chair. Abell left with him. Jamie sat alone in front of the display screen, caring less about who drove the damned rover than he did about what they would find when they reached the intersection of those three canyons.

Finally he flicked the display off and got to his feet. Scanning the dome’s interior, he saw that the women were still at the biology bench, but they were talking among themselves now, no longer bent over the equipment. The music had ended; the dome was quiet. Joanna looked tired.

Jamie approached them slowly, but they did not seem to notice him. They sat in the spindly Martian-gravity chairs earnestly talking among themselves.

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