“I still don’t like it.”
“I know. Don’t think about it.” Peter closed his eyes, not wanting to break the ensuing silence. Anna was probably doing the same, with her feet propped up against the window. The chopper landed smoothly.
Peter unstrapped himself, stood up, and screamed like a man possessed when Vincent Lambert placed a hand on his shoulder.
* * *
“What is it?” asked Anna instantly.
“H-he’s not dead!”
Anna quickly switched cameras and saw two astronauts on the platform. Vincent Lambert was standing next to Peter, towering over the small man. How was it possible? Holy shit! We really fucked up!
Very slowly, the newcomer pointed at his chest and then tapped his finger on the chopper.
“H-he wants to come in,” said Peter.
“Yes, I can see that. Well, don’t just stand there, take him in.”
“But, the plan... he was supposed to...”
“Forget about the stupid plan. He’s alive and we’re taking him in.”
“Anna, he’s on borrowed time. He might be dying right now.”
“According to you, he was dead thirty minutes ago. Just lead him inside.”
“No.”
Lambert repeated the gesture, slowly and very composed. It was unnerving.
“Why isn’t he talking to us?” This is beyond weird. “Good thing we’re on a private channel.”
“His radio might be out.”
Lambert slowly turned to the door and before Peter could do anything, he pressed the ‘Open’ button. Without pausing, he stepped into the decompression chamber.
“Don’t just stand there, get in with him, you idiot.”
“I could throw him out,” said Peter.
“Sure. Go right ahead.” Peter, although a brilliant scientist, was the biggest pussy Anna had ever met. It was one thing to let a man die, it was quite another to eject him to his death out of a decompression chamber. There was also the fact that Vincent Lambert was almost a full head taller than him and probably much heavier.
So Peter got into the chamber and the door closed. Exactly ninety seconds later, both men stepped into the chopper and Anna got off her seat. Lambert flipped his visor open and blinked at her.
“Wow, you sure gave us a big scare. We thought you were dead,” she said in a wavering voice. Calm down you idiot.
Lambert looked at her without saying a word, no expression whatsoever on his face. His cheeks were tearstained, his dry lips a sickly purple, and his dead eyes glinted red. It was the scariest thing she had ever seen. This guy’s in shock.
Peter removed his helmet. “Man, are you alright?”
Lambert, who was so tall his helmet scraped the ceiling, didn’t acknowledge him, and looked past Anna. He then stepped forward and she instinctively got out of his way. “What are you doing?”
Like a robot with a bad connection, Lambert ignored her and went to a small bench in the corner. He sat, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes.
Peter’s expression was probably as confused as her own. “He’s not well.”
“No kidding.”
Lambert yawned, moved his left leg and settled himself. A few seconds later, he was sound asleep, breathing deeply.
“What are we going to do?” said Anna.
Peter walked over carefully and kneeled next to the sleeping man. Without disturbing him, he quickly scanned Lambert’s suit ID and was instantly able to access its computer. “Good, he’s got no data restriction turned on. We should be able to access whatever’s on his suit.”
Anna dropped into the pilot seat and quickly organized the information coming in. It was incredible. “He only had four minutes of air left. Can you believe it?”
“But we saw him die! He died right in front of us. You saw him.”
“He was faking, obviously. Maybe he knew we were watching him.”
“Anna, you didn’t see his face. He was dead when I retrieved the bag. Nobody could fake that.”
“It’s not a pretty face, but he’s definitely not dead.”
“Here we go. Carbonados.” Peter retrieved several plastic bags from the sleeping man’s leg pocket. “Only five of them, small ones. Where are the big, priceless tennis balls we saw on the video?”
“Let’s see... Oh, damn, he was on reserve mode the whole time. Of course. Everything except life-support equipment was turned off the second the explosion took place in orbit.”
“Fuck.” Peter stood over the sleeping man. “He needs medical attention. We should head back.”
“Might as well, since we’re not gonna find anything else without him.”
“George is going to be so pissed by all this.”
“It was his idea, let him find a solution.”
Anna helped Peter out of his suit and then strapped Vincent Lambert to his seat while he slept. They moved in silence, each absorbed and consumed by the enormous consequences of their actions.
As the chopper took off and gained altitude, Peter retrieved two pre-prepared dinners and brought a bottle of orange juice to his seat. When he was finally strapped in next to Anna, the scramjets started while the three huge sets of rotating blades stopped and were tucked away.
The chopper, which now looked like an aircraft, quickly accelerated to its cruising speed for the three-hour return trip to the Mars head office.
* * *
“Now that he’s here, there’s no way we can cover this up without direct action,” said George Ramstead, director of operations of the EUI Mars division. He looked at each of his four colleagues in the conference room, the entire Martian staff, and his piercing, blue eyes dared anyone to disagree with him. “We need a plan.”
“We should have rescued them in the first place,” said Oleg, with his arms crossed against his chest. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if we had.”
“Yes, you’ve been very clear on that aspect, Dr. Varlamov. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to go over the side effects and recovery time of an epileptic seizure. What can we expect from Mr. Lambert when he wakes up?”
Anna and Peter leaned forward at the same time. They had been relieved by the diagnostic, somehow vindicated by the bizarre situation. Although Peter called it an honest mistake, Anna still felt largely responsible for the present situation.
Oleg cleared his throat. “Since his suit wasn’t recording anything, not even vital signs, his seizure might have lasted anything between five to thirty-five minutes. The shorter the seizure, the faster the recovery. A simple equation. In the case of a short one, which would be, according to his medical record, similar to the type he usually had, he should be back to normal when he wakes up. Maybe a little slow, but very functional.”
“The question is, what do we tell him?” ventured Anna.
“Nooo, the question is, what do we do with him? It’s one thing to let a man die out there; it’s another to murder him directly.” Oleg crossed his arms over his chest.
George Ramstead raised his hands to quell the ensuing words of agreement. “Nobody wants to kill anyone, but the situation is simple: Vincent Lambert, alive and well, will surely piece things together and incriminate us the second he returns to Earth. Personally, after a tour of duty on Mars, I could do without a prison term.” They were all going to be relieved in six months by a new team of astronauts.
“So you propose to kill him,” said Anna.
“No, I propose to let him die the way he was supposed to die. The way Bill Ross died. Running out of air in his spacesuit near the crash zone.”
“What about the diamonds?” asked Fanny Lang, the team biologist. “Apparently, we can’t find those diamonds without him.” She rarely spoke to her colleagues and spent most of her time cooped up in her private little zoo with her lab rats. Apparently, a bucket of cash could drag her out.
“We’ll have to convince him to tell us where they are. An important point.” George leaned back and locked his fingers behind his head.
“Which brings us back to my initial question: What do we tell him?” repeated Anna.
“We keep it real simple. The chopper was out of service. We fixed it. Then we barely managed to rescue him.”
“What was wrong with the chopper?” asked Oleg. “It needs to be something credible.”
“What about Bill Ross? Why didn’t we bring back the body of his friend?” asked Fanny.
George Ramstead sighed. “Peter, looks like this is gonna be a long meeting. Would you mind making a big pot of coffee?”
Peter left the room while discussion erupted about why Bill Ross was left behind.
* * *
“You’re a very lucky man,” said Oleg Varlamov for the third time.
Vincent Lambert nodded. He was dressed in clean clothes and sitting on a hospital bed in what was obviously a medical ward.
“I was able to duplicate your prescribed medication from our supplies,” said Oleg. He handed Vincent a small bottle of pills.
“Thank you. I feel much better.”
He looks sane, thought Anna. The transformation was hard to believe. From completely spaced out to calmly normal in just twelve hours of sleep and a few meals. It was amazing.
“Are you ready to resume our discussion?” asked George.
“I’d prefer a tour of your installations, if you don’t mind. I’d like to move around a bit. Maybe we could do both?” Vincent looked at Oleg Varlamov.
“I don’t see anything wrong with it,” said the doctor.
Vincent got off the bed and painfully followed George outside, walking like an old man. Anna winked at the doctor as they followed.
“What would you like to see?”
“The vehicle that brought me here. It might jolt my memory.”
“Sure.”
They walked through the narrow corridor that was in reality a series of empty containers linked together. Anna and Oleg followed closely behind.
“What are the long-term plans of this installation?” asked Vincent Lambert.
“To set up a permanent habitat. Mars’ mineral resources have yet to be tapped.”
“And the long-term goals are in the metallurgy industry?”
“Among other things. EUI wants to establish a permanent outpost on Mars for many reasons.”
“Have your analyses discovered precious metals yet?”
“We’re not at liberty to discuss that, as you can guess. But here we are.”
George stopped near a small window and Vincent bent forward to look outside. Anna raised an eyebrow at her boss, who simply stepped back to give more room to the big man.
Of course, on the other side was the chopper, parked in its usual spot. It was a big, ugly vehicle specifically designed for the Mars environment. All three EUI employees waited patiently while Vincent placed his hands on either side of the round porthole.
“Do you remember opening the hatch and coming inside?” asked Anna. You know, when you freaked us out.
“No.”
“Nothing at all?”
“Nothing.”
“Would you like to see the video?”
“Yes, very much.”
“Is that a good idea?” asked George cautiously.
Anna recognized that tone. George didn’t want her to go there. Relax, I know what I’m doing.
“I don’t see anything wrong with it, on the contrary,” said Oleg.
Anna stepped to the nearest wall screen and retrieved the secure video of their last outing. No sound, of course, and no further than when they landed. Vincent carefully watched himself step on the platform and tap Peter on the shoulder.
“You really took us by surprise,” said Anna.
“Yeah, you mentioned that.” Vincent’s face was pale, his expression totally blank as he watched the high-res video.
“Does it ring a bell?”
“Can you play it again?”
Anna restarted it and smiled triumphantly at George behind Vincent’s back. The director glared at her. Oh, stop that, you old whiner. He’s remembering.
Vincent leaned forward, squinting his eyes. “Is there some kind of... hole... over there?”
“You mean a crater?” said Anna.
“Not a crater. Wider. I remember a signal. Walking. Walking forever. Then a wide hole.”
George placed a hand on Vincent’s shoulder. There was a predatory gleam in his eye that chilled Anna. “Yes, you crossed a large crevice inside the crater. Do you remember it?”
“A crevice, yes,” said Vincent. “I remember sliding down. My water was gone.”
“You were badly dehydrated when Peter and Anna brought you here,” said Oleg. “The blisters on your feet testify how long you walked.”
Vincent closed his eyes and swallowed. “Bill was dying. I put my radio on mute.”
“That’s why we couldn’t talk to you,” said Anna.
“I’m not sure Mr. Lambert could have answered after his seizure,” said Oleg. “He could not and did not talk until after he slept. Fact is, we have no information on how long he was out.”
“I need time. Time to think. Time to remember.”
“Did you experience such memory losses after your previous seizures?” asked Oleg.
“Oh yes, but it all came back fairly quickly afterwards. For example, I remember stepping out of the Soyuz, getting the bag of diamonds, Bill stumbling and struggling, then spitting blood. By the way, where are the diamonds?”
George’s eyes almost jumped out of their orbits as he leaned forward. “The bag was empty. It was ripped.”
“Yes, it got ripped when Bill retrieved it from the living module. That’s where he got hurt, so I guess that’s what killed him.” Vincent looked at the three people around him. “So the diamonds are gone?”
“Only you can tell us,” said Anna. They’re in that damn crevice somewhere.
“Maybe I left them along the way. When do you plan to go back?”
“Go back?”
“Well, yes. To retrieve Bill’s body. You might want to look for those diamonds. As you know, they’re worth a fortune.”
“It’s your money,” said George with his palms out. “We only found a few stones in your suit’s leg pocket. If you know where the rest are, we’ll definitely get them for you.”
Vincent took a step back from the screen. “Those diamonds were Bill’s dream. He’d been waiting for this for over a decade. When my memory returns, I’d like to go with you. You know, to get Bill’s body along with the diamonds.”
George Ramstead was positively beaming. And why not? Unknowingly, the big Earth astronaut was handing them the answer to all their problems. “It will be my pleasure to accompany you there. It’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you.” Vincent tapped the other man’s shoulder and looked at all three EUI employees. “I won’t forget this. I fully intend to compensate each and every one of you for rescuing me the way you did. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go rest a bit. I’m exhausted.”
They all walked back to the infirmary at the tall man’s slow pace.
* * *
The chopped was immobilized over the crevice and Anna experienced an eerie feeling of déjà vu. Many things were different this time around.
Peter isn’t here. George didn’t trust him with something so delicate, and Anna couldn’t blame him. He had screwed up once and the boss didn’t believe in second chances.
There’s a corpse in the chopper. Vincent had insisted on picking up his friend first. Of course, George had agreed to all his requests ever since he suggested retrieving the diamonds. Bill’s body was thankfully still in his suit, and was strapped in the very corner where Vincent had initially sat.
We’re about to get filthy rich. This must be what it feels like to cash in a winning lottery ticket. They were going to get the diamonds, leave Vincent in the crevice, return Bill’s body where they found him, and get back to base right away. Everything would be the way it was supposed to be the first time
around. All communications with Blue Star had been erased and nobody would ever suspect that Vincent Lambert and Bill Ross had ever successfully landed on Mars. They would be remembered as two astronauts lost in space, just like sailors lost at sea.
“Do you know where?” asked George as he looked at a live video of the crevice bottom with Vincent. They were both suited, with their visors open.
The big man shook his head. “Nah, we’ll have to go down for a ground-level look. I can’t visualize it from up here.”
“You don’t feel up to it on your own?”
“God no. I’m so weak, I couldn’t outwrestle a ten year old.”
“Okay. Anna, we’re both heading out.”
“No problem.” Both heading out, but only one coming back in.
Less than two minutes later the two men stepped on the outside platform.
“I’ll clip you in and you go first,” said George.
“I’d prefer see how you manage on your own. That way I can come up after you when we’re done.”
“Okay then. It’s very simple.” George clipped himself in, leaned back out, and was slowly lowered to the bottom.
“Seems easy enough,” said Vincent. The cable came back up. “Oops, I think it’s stuck.”
Anna could see him struggling with the cable, which appeared to have been brought all the way into the reel.
“I’m gonna need help,” said Vincent as he sat on the platform. “Sorry about that, I’m pooped. Just lifting my arms is an effort.”
“Anna, can you suit up and give him a hand?” said George.
“Sure, I’m on it.” Like I wasn’t gonna figure that one out on my own. She quickly suited up while thinking about how she would spoil her parents. Not right away, of course. To avoid suspicions, they had agreed to wait a few months before cashing in their diamonds.
She went through decompression with images of fancy restaurants and five-star hotels in exotic locations. There was a perfect beach with palm trees and a blood-red sunset waiting for her.
The door opened and she stepped out. Before she could even look at the reel, Anna was pushed on the shoulder so abruptly that she catapulted from the platform and made several full spins before crashing on one of the many boulders at the bottom of the crevice.
She died instantly.
* * *
George Ramstead heard a grunt followed by a sharp gasp. He looked up from the footprints he was examining just in time to see Anna crash on a jagged boulder. The impact was so violent, her helmet cracked open and her visor broke off. The poor girl never moved or struggled, even though her suit was no longer pressurized. In a strange twist of fate, Anna’s face was turned toward him and her big blue eyes were staring.