The communications blackout might actually be beneficial, he thought as he cracked his accordion door for a peek at the module. He had time to reason with Carla Sue before she could set any foolish plan in motion.
Jaeckle closed the door and booted up his computer. Carla Sue had been working on a long-term project of trying to cultivate terrestrial bacteria in samples of Martian soil returned by the unmanned space probes. The purpose was to determine if earthly life-forms could survive under the subzero temperatures and desert-dry conditions on Mars. If they could, it would be important evidence that native life might exist in those frozen red sands. It would also be a warning that astronauts from Earth could contaminate the planet’s soil with their own microbes.
Her progress seemed to vary in direct proportion to his interest in her. It had lagged seriously during his ill-fated affair with Lorraine Renoir.
Jaeckle summoned Carla Sue’s project files to his computer screen and hastily reviewed her work. A thrill coursed through his body. The microbe-growing project was completely stalled. He quickly tapped out a message for Carla Sue to report to his office immediately. She did not acknowledge, but two minutes later there was a sharp rap on the doorjamb.
Carla Sue had her hair pulled back and knotted, which made her face resemble a beachball with a face painted on it. It was not a happy face as she eyed Jaeckle with her arms folded in front of the hint of breasts that puffed out her uniform shirt.
“I think we have a problem,” said Jaeckle. “I’ve been reviewing your microbe contamination project. Your work has been inadequate.”
“In what way?” said Carla Sue. “I surely haven’t conclusively proved that bacteria can grow under Martian conditions. But I didn’t expect to at this point. You didn’t expect it, either.”
Jaeckle fought the impulse to wince as Carla Sue spat an almost exact quote back in his face. He immediately reversed field.
“That isn’t the point,” he said. “You haven’t logged any tangible results in the past several days.”
“The hell I haven’t, Professor Jaeckle.”
“The computer doesn’t lie,” said Jaeckle, directing her attention to the screen with an arrogant wave of his hand.
Carla Sue squinted at the data display. “That’s all wrong.”
Jaeckle laughed. Without asking permission, Carla Sue brushed past him and quickly typed in a set of commands. The screen changed several times, showing page after page of fresh data.
“You obviously didn’t look at my work very closely, did you, Kurt?” she said. “I guess even my scientific work is yesterday’s news in your book.”
Jaeckle’s embarrassment blossomed into raw anger. He envisioned his face on supermarket tabloids, the brutality and depravity of his private life at once trumpeted and trivialized along with stories of UFOs, alien kidnappings, and Bigfoot. He grabbed her by the shirt just above the bump of her breasts.
“Listen to me, goddammit!” he hissed.
Carla Sue, six inches taller, managed to slip a foot into an anchoring loop. She brought her hands up between Jaeckle’s arms and, with a snap of her wrists, broke his grip. He sailed backward into the rear partition of the office.
They stared at each other—Jaeckle with the horror of realizing he had just lost his composure, Carla Sue with a measure of sad understanding, even pity. She opened the door and slipped out of the office.
Jaeckle did not pursue her. There was no sense in losing his dignity in front of the rest of the Martians. He waited until he knew she would be at her workstation, then keyed an urgent, heartfelt apology into his computer. The stress of the mission was beginning to take its toll, he stated. He was only human.
The more he typed the better he felt. Grabbing Carla Sue was not the end of his world. It was a minor faux pas, something he certainly could repair with politeness, a few well-chosen words, an exaggerated respect for her scientific abilities.
He almost convinced himself.
Fifteen meters away, Carla Sue saw the apology gushing across her screen. She had realized when she embarked on her gambit that her position among the Martians would be changed forever. But she was surprised that Jaeckle had overreacted so quickly.