The lander had one passenger only: Dr. Yang Meilin. And a cargo of pharmaceuticals packed in hard plastic boxes.
In less than half an hour the diminutive Dr. Yang was deep in conference with Tony Reed in the dome’s infirmary.
Hard to tell what’s going on behind those slanted eyes, Reed said to himself as he showed her the data from all his tests of the ground team.
“The people in the rover seem to be the worst off,” Reed was saying aloud. “Although god knows that most of the people here in the dome are in bad-enough shape.”
“How did you permit this to happen?” Dr. Yang asked. Her voice was silky, low. But still the question startled Reed.
“Permit it?” His voice sounded shrill, defensive, even to himself. “How can anyone combat a disease unless he has a clear diagnosis?”
“You have no idea of what is affecting your comrades?”
“None,” he snapped. “Do you?”
Her face was a perfectly impenetrable mask. “I cannot say until I have performed some tests.”
Reed pushed back his stubborn lock of sandy hair. “Then I suggest we get started on your tests.”
“Yes. I notice that you do not seem to be troubled by this illness. Therefore I will use you as a baseline control, if you have no objection.”
“None whatsoever.”
“Good,” said Dr. Yang. Then, matter-of-factly, “Roll up your sleeve, please.”
Reed obediently bared his left arm, thinking, You come down here all fresh and businesslike, certain that you’ll discover whatever it is that I’ve overlooked. Perhaps you will. Perhaps you’ll be luckier than I’ve been. Or smarter. It’s my own fault. I’ve missed something, I’ve done something wrong. Or failed to do something I should have. And she knows it. They all know it. They all blame me.
As Dr. Yang deftly slipped a needle into his vein, Tony insisted silently, But it isn’t me. It’s this blasted alien world we’re on. We have no business here. We’re out of our depth. I’m out of my depth. I should never have come to Mars. None of us should have. Mars has defeated me. Mars has defeated us all.
Jamie thought his vision was blurring, but then the stinging made him realize that sweat was getting into his eyes. He blinked and rubbed his eyes with one hand, keeping a firm grip on the wheel with the other. The rover was churning along at a steady thirty klicks per hour, heading for the landslide that they had come down two days earlier.
Maybe we can make it before sundown, Jamie thought. If we can get all the way up the slope and onto the plain again before sundown, we can just keep going all night long. I’ll slow her down, of course, but the lights are good enough to keep us on the move. No need to stop for the night. We can even follow our own tracks, the tracks we made coming out here. If they haven’t been covered up by dust. If we can get to the top.
Connors slid into the right-hand seat. Jamie shot him a glance. The astronaut looked spent. He sat as if his bones could not hold him up, his head almost lolling on his shoulders.
“How’s it goin’?” Connors’s voice was hoarse.