The red world had not yet fully recovered from that great cataclysm of long ago. Yet a broad new sea had arisen, gleaming water that covered almost half the planet. Enormous volcanoes reared their mighty peaks toward the stars and spread hot lava and steaming gases over the land. There was still energy deep beneath the red world’s crust, the molten energy to build the tallest mountains of all time.
As always when there is water and energy, there was the chance for life to begin. Water and energy and time: those are all that life needs.
But then the cold began to do its deadly work. The great hemispherical sea froze and vanished into the ground. The volcanoes stilled. The red world began a long, long winter that has lasted to this very day.
SOL. 37: MORNING
Jamie stood naked under the hot sun of Mars, sweat trickling down his ribs and legs as the gods gathered around him. His groin ached with the pleasurable anguish of yearning. His empty hands reached out longingly.
The land was as red as blood, the sky a blue so bright that it hurt his eyes to look upward. Across the sandy desert the gods were descending in their fiery chariots, one after another. Wherever they touched down, Martian rocks instantly changed into brilliant blooms of flowers. Soon the entire desert was carpeted with color, and even the craggy cliffs in the far distance shifted and melted into cities of adobe and wood. Jamie could see plumes of smoke rising from their chimneys.
The gods wore feathers and glittering beads. Their faces were those of totems: fox, eagle, dog, snake. Their bodies were magnificent, straight and tall as lofty pine trees, beautifully muscled and gleaming like burnished copper.
They gathered around Jamie solemnly, silently, encircling him until he felt like a small child in their superb presence. Jamie fingered the totem his grandfather had given him; the bear was his protector and guide.
“I have returned to you,” Jamie said to the gods. “I have come back to your domain.”
The gods said nothing. They stared wordlessly down at Jamie while the soft winds of Mars sang their morning song.
“From a great distance I have come,” Jamie explained, pointing toward a single star that shone even in the daytime sky. “All the way from Earth.”
The gods drew closer, looming over Jamie, making him feel small, weak, afraid. His knees trembled. He was sweating hard.
“You have brought all the white man’s ills with you,” said the voice of the gods. “You have brought death to our abode.”
“No!” Jamie protested. “I bring life to you!”
“You bring death.”
They raised their hands against Jamie. Each carried a mighty implement in his hand. For some it was a rattle fashioned from a giant gourd and painted in gaudy colors. For others it was a war club, daubed black and heavy with menace. They brandished the clubs, rattled the gourds. And vanished.
The gods disappeared, faded into oblivion, and the world around them lost all its life. The flowers, the blossoms, the beautiful adobe cities melted away and vanished, leaving only the empty desolation of Mars stretching as far as the eye could see.
The buzzing sound of the gourd remained, though-threatening, insistent, inescapable.
Jamie realized that it was the buzzer of the comm console. He opened his eyes, making the transition from dream to reality with the reluctance of a man leaving a warm fire to face a winter storm.
He was in the rover. Eighteen inches above his head stretched the gray bottom of Joanna’s bunk. Even closer, to his left, Connors lay sprawled and entwined in his blanket. The astronaut’s face was bathed in a sheen of sweat. His sleeping features looked drawn and pained.
The damned comm unit up in the cockpit was buzzing like a hive of hornets. Nobody else seemed to hear it. Jamie crawled carefully out of his bunk and padded in his stockinged feet to the cockpit. He shivered. His coveralls were soaked with cold sweat. His head thundered as if from a hangover.
Slumping into the right-hand seat, Jamie leaned a finger against the button that activated the communicator. With his other hand he started to wind the little wheel that pulled the thermal shroud off the canopy. It was still dark outside on the canyon floor. The only light in the cockpit came from the telltales on the instrument panel.