Ben Bova – Mars. Part seven

“Doesn’t matter what we decide. That damned Indian is going to Tithonium whether we like it or not.”

“You mean Dr. Waterman, not Dr. Patel.”

“Yeah, right. Waterman.”

“But if the sense of this meeting is opposed to changing the mission plan,” Grechko said, “that will force the politicians to reconsider.”

“No it won’t. The Japs are going along with the new plan.”

“They are?”

Brownstein nodded grimly. “Tanaka was in the same plane with me. He happened to be at CalTech when this meeting was called. He told me Tokyo has agreed with Washington to okay the Tithonium diversion.”

“Without consulting their own scientists or mission directors?” Grechko seemed shocked.

“It’s a done deal,” Brownstein said. “All we’re doing here is jerking off.”

DiNardo raised his eyebrows slightly.

“Unless,” Brownstein added, “we decide to make a fight of it.”

“No,” said the priest.

The two other men stared at him. Brownstein almost snarled, “You’re willing to let some ignorant bunch of politicians tell us what to do?”

“In this case, yes.”

Brownstein shook his head, more in anger than in sorrow. Grechko asked, “Why?”

“There are at least two very powerful reasons not to oppose this decision.”

“Damned if I see even one,” Brownstein said. “If we let the politicians win this one, next thing you know they’ll be telling us how to tie our fucking shoes!”

“As a geologist,” DiNardo said, with hardly a wince at the American’s language, “I agree with Waterman. The canyon is the best place to go, considering the limitations of time, equipment, and supplies of this mission.”

“And skip the volcanoes entirely?” Grechko asked. His little smile seemed to irritate Brownstein.

“If we are forced to make an either-or choice, I would say, yes, skip the volcanoes altogether. However, I believe we can at least make a preliminary reconnaissance of Pavonis Mons. A few days, at least.”

“That’s your professional opinion, is it?” Brownstein asked.

“Yes. As a geologist I agree with the politicians.”

“You said there were two reasons,” Grechko prodded.

“The second reason is political. Actually,” the priest said, making himself smile at Brownstein, “a mixture of science and politics.”

He hesitated until Brownstein asked impatiently, “Well, what is it?”

“I don’t believe it is wise to try to fight the politicians when they have made a decision that is reasonably sound, scientifically.”

Before either of the other two could say a word, DiNardo went on, “Besides, the most likely place for our team to find traces of life is in the canyon. I am willing to take the chance that they will find something there. Something that will force the politicians to agree to further missions.”

Brownstein started to shake his head, but Grechko mused, “Certainly it would seem that the canyon is a better environment for life than the volcanoes. It’s like comparing the jungles of Brazil to the mountains of Tibet, isn’t it?”

“The Martian equivalent, yes,” DiNardo agreed.

“I still don’t like it,” Brownstein muttered. “If we give in to the politicians on this one, we’re opening a can of worms that’ll ruin everything in the long run.”

“Then we must not appear to be giving in to the politicians,” said DiNardo. “We must convince our colleagues to insist on the excursion to Tithonium-while keeping as much of the earlier mission plan as possible.”. Brownstein grimaced. “That’s a tall order.”

“It can be done,” DiNardo said quietly. “I am certain that Brumado will be in favor.”

Grechko’s smile widened perceptibly. “Then you can get up on your feet and try to convince the rest of them.”

DiNardo smiled back. “Oh no. I will convince Brumado. Then he will convince all the others.”

“Spoken like a true Jesuit,” said Grechko.

Brownstein snorted, but said nothing.

The crowd was beginning to stream back upstairs. The three men started back to the auditorium.

God grant me the strength to succeed, DiNardo said to himself. Then he thought, And God grant James Waterman good hunting on Mars.

SOL 22: AFTERNOON

Ravavishnu Patel stared at the broad, regal cone of Pavonis Mons. The volcano filled the horizon like a reclining Buddha, like a slumbering Shiva, destroyer of worlds-and their restorer.

“It’s a shame Toshima is not with us.” Abdul al-Naguib’s soft voice broke Patel’s nearly hypnotic spell.

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