James P Hogan. Inherit The Stars. Giant Series #1

Gorda while the others stay put in the truck and wait for a rescue

party. Koriel is cooking a meal before we set out. He has been

saying what he thinks of life in the infantry-doesn’t seem to think

much of it at all.

Some hours after they left the truck, one of the troopers climbed a

crag to survey the route ahead. He slipped, gashed his suit, and

died instantly from explosive decompression. Later on, one of the

girls hurt her leg and lagged farther and farther behind as the

pain worsened. The Sun was sinking and there was no time for

slowing down. Everybody in the group wrestled with the same

equation in his mind-one life or twenty-eight?-but said nothing.

She solved the problem for them by quietly closing her air valve

when they stopped to rest.

Day Thirty-eight. Just Koriel and me now-like the old days.

The trooper suddenly doubled up, vomiting violently inside his

helmet. We stood and watched while he died, and could do nothing.

Some hours later, one of the girls collapsed and said she couldn’t

go on. The other insisted on staying with her until we sent help

from Gorda. Couldn’t really argue-they were sisters. That was some

time ago. We’ve stopped for a breather; I am getting near my limit.

Koriel is pacing up and down impatiently and wants to get moving.

That man has the strength of twelve .

Later. Stopped at last for a couple of hours sleep. I’m sure Koriel

is a robot-just keeps going and going. Human tank. Sun very low in

sky. Must make Gorda before Lunar night sets in.

Day Thirty-nine. Woke up freezing cold. Had to turn suit heating up

to maximum-still doesn’t feel right. Think it’s developing a fault.

Koriel says I worry too much. Time to be on the move again. Feel

stiff all over. Seriously wondering if I’ll make it. Haven’t said

so.

Later. The march has been a nightmare. Kept falling down. Koriel

insisted that the only chance we had was to climb up out of the

valley we were in and try a shortcut over a high ridge. I made it

about halfway up the cleft leading toward the ridge. Every step up

the cleft I could see Minerva sitting right over the middle of the

ridge, gashes of orange and red all over it, like a (macabre?)

face, taunting. Then I collapsed. When I came to, Koriel had

dragged me inside a pilot digging of some sort. Maybe someone wag

going to put an outpost of Gorda here. That was a while ago now.

Koriel has gone on and says help will be back before I know it.

Getting colder all the time. Feet numb and hands stiff. Frost

starting to form in helmet-difficult to see.

Thinking about all the people strung out back there with night

coming down, all like me, wondering if they’ll be picked up. if we

can hold out we’ll be all right. Koriel will make it. If it were a

thousand miles to Gorda, Koriel would make it.

Thinking about what has happened on Minerva and wondering if, after

all this, our children will live on a sunnier world-and if they do,

if they will ever know what we did.

Thinking about things I’ve never really thought about before. There

should be better ways for people to spend their lives than in

factories, mines, and army camps. Can’t think what, though-that’s

all we’ve ever known. But if there is warmth and color and light

somewhere in this Universe, then maybe something worthwhile will

come out of what we’ve been through.

Too much thinking for one day. Must sleep for a while now.

Hunt found he had read right through to the end, absorbed in the

pathos of those final days. His voice had fallen to a sober pitch.

A long silence ensued.

“Well, that’s it,” he concluded, a little more briskly. “Did you

notice that bit right at the end? In the last few lines he was

talking about seeing the surface of Minerva again. Now, they might

have used telescopes earlier on, but in the situation he was in

there, they’d hardly be lugging half an observatory along with

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