Seiji Toshima’s round face appeared on the small screen. He looked as baggy-eyed and bleary as Jamie felt.
“I am sorry to awaken you so early,” the meteorologist said, without preamble, “but I must warn you of a dust storm that may strike your region this morning.”
“Dust storm?” Jamie muttered. “What?”
“Dust storm! Wind speeds of two hundred knots. Visibility reduced to near zero. Density of particles in air high enough to damage unprotected equipment! You must prepare!”
“Wait…” Jamie’s head was buzzing. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”
“The canyon system acts as a wind tunnel,” Toshima said rapidly. “The approaching cold front will send a wave of energy down the canyon and create a dust storm of great severity. You must be prepared for this! Unprotected equipment could be damaged. People out in the open could become disoriented. The dust could be thick enough to reduce vision severely. Even radio communications might be affected.”
“But I thought the storms didn’t come this far south at this time of the year,” Jamie said as the impact of Toshima’s warning began to sink in.
The meteorologist slowed down and explained his belief that the entire canyon complex could become a giant wind tunnel filled with blowing dust.
“I can keep you updated on an hourly basis,” he said. “I have asked Ulanov and Diels in the orbiter to focus all instrumentation on the canyon area this morning. Fortunately, the spacecraft hovers over this hemisphere constantly.”
Jamie could hear the sounds of the others getting out of their bunks behind him.
“I would advise against any EVA today that is farther than a few minutes’ walk from your vehicle,” Toshima said. “With wind speeds of two hundred knots a storm could be upon you before you know it.”
“Shit,” Jamie groused. “Suppose we move the rover farther west? We were going to anyway, and then dig a deep borehole and instrument it.”
Toshima hiked his eyebrows. “The storm will overtake you no matter what your position.”
“If the storm actually happens,” Jamie said.
The Japanese meteorologist closed his eyes briefly. “Yes,” he hissed. “If my forecast is correct.”
Jamie leaned back in the seat, feeling exhausted already. “Okay. Thanks for the warning. Give us an hour to talk it over and have breakfast. Then we’ll call you back.”
Toshima looked away from the screen, then was pushed aside by Vosnesensky. The Russian looked grimmer than usual.
“Jamie, we have checked the situation with Dr. Li. Toshima’s prediction is tentative, but serious enough to take… well, seriously.”
“Yep. I understand.”
“There is to he no EVA and no moving of the rover without checking with me first,” Vosnesensky said.
Jamie nodded.
“Let me talk with Connors now.”
It took an effort for Jamie to turn his head and look back toward the rear of the module. “He’s in the john,” Jamie said to the screen. “I’ll tell him to check in with you when he comes out.”
“Yes. As soon as he comes out.”
It took nearly half an hour before all four of them were washed and dressed in their daytime coveralls. Jamie already felt too tired even to consider shaving. One advantage of Indian blood, he said to himself as he peered blearily into the mirror. Not much of a beard. When he came out of the lavatory he noticed that Connors had not shaved either. His beard was grizzled with gray; it made him look older.
They folded up the bunks in silence and sat on the benches, four steaming meals on the table between them, together with the usual bottle of vitamin supplement pills.
“Mikhail doesn’t want us to move until they see if a sandstorm is actually developing,” Connors said, picking at his reconstituted eggs and soy bacon.
“It’s just as well,” said Ilona. “I don’t think we’re in condition to do very much.”
“You still feel that bad?” Jamie asked.
“Terrible. What about you?”
“Pretty punk. But I think we could at least go outside and do some more sampling. What about you, Joanna?”
She looked miserable: pale and red eyed. There were dark rings under her eyes. Ilona looked worse: gaunt, hollow cheeked. Jamie knew that his own face was sunken, bleary.