Exiles of Titan- The Martian Phase Page 6

  ‘Bad one Walther?’

  Walther was a strange colour, somewhere between white and khaki, and was trying hard not to look at Nicolau, who was shovelling bacon into his mouth.

  ‘Ach! Ich habe einen schlechten kater.’

  ‘Sorry Walther – I don’t speak German.’

  Walther stared vacantly at her for a moment as if he didn’t know who she was. With what appeared to be a great effort, he pulled himself together.

  ‘My apologies. I am overhung by alcohol.’

  Tirzah smiled. She liked Walther – even if he did look like he’d walked straight out of a prehistoric tri-vid. He was gentle, polite, and self-effacing and did his best with his limited English. She wished some of the other members of the team were as pleasant. Simon was undoubtedly handsome, and her thoughts kept wandering to what he might be like in bed, but he was self-opinionated and boorish. He’d suffice for a short-term liaison but that was all.

  Now Philippe was a different matter – courteous, good-looking and good in bed. She thought back to the previous evening. She hadn’t been expecting him after her behaviour in the bar but somehow that made it all the better when it happened. He’d still been edgy and irritable – definitely holding back on something – and she’d tried to get him to open up to her. He wouldn’t budge, insisting it was in her best interests not to know, but she wondered if he’d relent on that in the cold light of day. She glanced round and only now saw he wasn’t there.

  ‘Has anyone seen Philippe?’

  Simon glared at her again. ‘Probably still in his room. He wasn’t exactly the life and soul of the party last night but I think he got what he was after later on – wouldn’t you say?’

  Tirzah suddenly realised what his problem was. He must have seen Philippe go into her room. She turned away and tried to change the subject.

  ‘What about a visit to the Skydome today? It’s supposed to be a “must see”. We could stop off at Philippe’s room on the way and see if he wants to go too.’

  There was no enthusiasm whatsoever for this suggestion, responses ranging from lukewarm at best to frankly hostile. Tirzah just lost it.

  ‘What the hell’s the matter with you all? This is the most talked-about attraction in the solar system and you lot are seriously thinking of giving it a miss? Well if you don’t want to go that’s fine, but I’m going – and if Philippe’s in his room I’m sure he will too.’

  As Tirzah had hoped, the mention of Phillipe was a game-changer – at least as far as Simon was concerned. He immediately changed his mind and said he was up for a visit. The other two were still doubtful until Walther’s good nature got the better of him. He agreed he’d like to see the Skydome while he had the opportunity, and struggled to his feet. After this, Nicolau seemed to feel he had no option but to fall in line. Tirzah looked round the sad little company with an unaccustomed feeling of triumph and set off for Philippe’s room. Simon followed closely, unwilling to let her out of his sight, and Nicolau hung back to keep Walther company as the big man slouched slowly along.

  Once back in the residential area, Tirzah knocked gently on Philippe’s door. There was no answer. She was about to knock louder when Simon pushed her out of the way and pummelled on it aggressively, shouting for Philippe to open up. Still nothing.

  ‘Okay, that’s it. Let’s go.’

  Simon began to move off and Walther and Nicolau followed. Tirzah was appalled and stood her ground.

  ‘Suppose he’s ill or something? I know you guys don’t like Philippe but I’m not leaving here until I get this door open.’

  She put in a call to the Residence Warden and requested that Phillipe’s door be opened. Simon grumbled while they waited and made no attempt to conceal his dislike of the Frenchman.

  ‘I don’t know why you bother with him,’ he said to Tirzah. ‘The man’s obviously unstable.’

  ‘You don’t know what he’s been going through.’

  ‘Well why don’t you enlighten me?’

  Tirzah glared. There was no way she was going to tell Simon about the DNA theft. Luckily, she was spared any further debate by the arrival of the warden with the room code. The room was empty – and it was clear Philippe hadn’t slept there at all the previous night. So where was he?

  Tirzah was really worried. Phillipe’s performance in bed the previous evening had been lacklustre in the extreme – certainly not the Phillipe she knew. She’d tried to get him to stay but he’d refused, saying he had things to do, and as he’d slouched out he’d looked thoroughly depressed. Now she was left wondering what these “things” might be that he had to do in the early hours of the morning. The possible answers weren’t encouraging.

  She called him over the comm but there was no reply, just an automated response. Then she looked at the others, wondering how far she could push them. Not very far, judging from the expressions on their faces. She didn’t think she had a hope in hell of persuading them to carry out a search and, to be fair, she wouldn’t know where to start herself. Then there was the outside chance that Philippe might simply have found some other company last night and was sleeping late – and how pathetic would she look then?

  ‘Well, screw this!’ said Simon. ‘If you want to go to the Skydome, fine – let’s go. Philippe’s a big boy. He can look after himself.’

  Tirzah knew she’d run out of allies. Nicolau and Walther were already shuffling in the direction of the Mall while Simon stared belligerently at her, daring her to come up with some other ploy to find Philippe. With a sigh, she gave up and followed Walther and Nicolau. Simon took up the rear, a little smile playing over his lips.

  The Mall was a large open space at the junction of several habitation zone corridors. Over the years, it had become a kind of central commercial district for the Base, and contained numerous retail outlets as well as the bar in which they’d spent the previous evening. It was also the centre of a web of corridors that linked the various Base facilities and, as they emerged from the Residence corridor, they could see the route to the Skydome almost diametrically opposite.

  It didn’t take them long to pass down the entry corridor to the Skydome and enter the dome proper. It was a fascinating piece of architecture because it was absolutely transparent. As they closed the door behind them it was difficult to see where the enclosed red desert ended and the “real” landscape outside began. Then, when the entrance door disappeared behind a rock, the illusion of walking across Mars was complete.

  Tirzah was entranced. The sky was deep red, fading to violet near the horizon, and the distant sun was pale and insipid, just over half its size when seen from Earth. It did its best to cast some light and heat on the desolate landscape outside the dome and created an effect something like a cloudy day on Earth – a very cold cloudy day, because the surface temperature was in the region of minus 30C. Tirzah checked the internal ambient temperature on her wrist console – it was steady at the usual 22C.

  She saw that the twin moons, Phobos and Deimos, were both high in the sky at the same time – a comparative rarity – and she could just make out the orbiting Q-ship as a bright point moving rapidly across the sky on the far horizon. This really was amazing. The word that sprang to mind was “spiritual” – and it appeared the rest of the group felt as she did because they’d begun to talk in whispers and were proceeding slowly and almost reverentially. The mood was further enhanced when they came to an area of rocky extrusions – massive blocks and towering columns. The impression was of being in a vast alien cathedral.

  Tirzah wondered along some way ahead of the rest of the group, enjoying the feeling of isolation amidst the stark beauty, and awestruck by the towering rocks. She’d just rounded one particular rocky outcrop and was about to call back to the rest of the team when she looked up. She stopped and stared, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

  ‘Oh my God!’

  Her stomach lurched violently and she fell to her knees, vomiting on the sand. The others moved quickly to her side, concern showing in thei
r faces – then they saw it too. At the highest point of the rock, a man was hanging. A noose was round his neck, his face was blue-black and bloated, and his swollen tongue protruded through grey lips.

  It was Philippe Fournier – and he was quite obviously dead.

  They stared in horror and Walther finally lost his ongoing battle to keep his stomach contents where they belonged. Simon was as shocked as the rest but had the sense to call Security and Security Chief Monroe arrived in a little over three minutes. He immediately took charge, gently easing the scientists away from the scene of death and placing an urgent call to the senior Pathologist, Dr Barinson.

  ‘Cut him down! Please cut him down!’

  Tirzah was almost hysterical and kept trying to get back to the rock from which Philippe’s body hung. Simon put his arm round her, trying to offer some comfort, but she pulled away and stared again at the body.

  ‘We’ll get him down when we can, Miss,’ Monroe said, ‘but we need our Pathologist to give us the okay. Why don’t you all return to your rooms for now? I’ll catch up with you later and make sure your professor’s informed.’

  They shambled slowly away, passing Barinson on his way in with his team. The Pathologist conducted a rapid initial scan of the scene then had the body taken down for a more detailed examination. His team took photographs and samples while he satisfied himself they’d obtained what information they could. Finally, he gave permission for the body to be removed to the mortuary and turned to Monroe.

  ‘Pending a formal post-mortem, this seems to be a classic case of asphyxiation by hanging. The marks round the neck and the swelling of the facial structures are consistent with strangulation by the rope that was found in situ. Obviously, there’ll have to be an inquest, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure this was suicide.’

  ‘Thanks, Doc.’ Monroe put in a call to the Base coroner and after a brief discussion turned back to Barinson. ‘How quickly can you get the post-mortem done, Doc? If you can do it today, and my lads get the necessary statements from the deceased’s colleagues, the coroner says he can schedule the inquest for tomorrow. The thing is, these guys are on a high profile Bureau mission to Titan and if there are genuinely no inconsistencies I’d like to get things processed quickly so they can be on their way.’

  ‘Well that’s most irregular.’ Barinson frowned and tutted to himself. ‘However, I suppose if it’s cleared with the coroner…’

  ‘Thanks Doc.’ Monroe got on the comm to his sergeant. ‘Joe? Monroe here. Listen, it looks like we’ve got a suicide here – one of those scientists who arrived yesterday on that Q-ship. We’re aiming for a quick-fire inquest so I need you and the lads to get over to the habitation zone and get statements from his colleagues. Oh, and while you’re at it, you’d better get some from the security guys who are going on to Titan – they might have noticed something. Okay? Thanks.’ He looked at Barinson. ‘You’d better get a move on doc – don’t want to keep the coroner waiting do we?’

  Despite everybody’s best intentions, it took two days to get the post-mortem performed, the interviews done, and the inquest held. According to the coroner, this was a record – both on Mars and Earth – and he appeared inordinately pleased with himself when he pronounced the verdict of suicide. Following the verdict, the Captain of the Q-ship lost no time getting re-embarkation underway and the traumatised passengers were soon back in their cabins preparing for the long journey ahead.

  Ckayka felt intensely uncomfortable. There must have been something terrible playing on Fournier’s mind for him to have taken his own life and he’d had the opportunity of talking to him about it. There were very few times when Chayka doubted himself but on this occasion he was forced to consider his actions – and he didn’t come out of it very well. Not very well at all.

  He shook himself from his introspection. This was not being very productive. He needed to arrange a replacement for Fournier as quickly as possible. He frowned. This really was going to be extremely tiresome. Dr Fournier had been integral to his plans and now everything would have to be put on hold. He put in a call to the Bureau and formally made his request.

  The Bureau acknowledged the problem but said they couldn’t get a replacement to him any time soon. They promised to make an appointment within the next three weeks. However, the only Q-ship capable of reaching Titan in a reasonable time was the one Chayka was on – and that wasn’t due back for another four to six weeks. Then there was the necessary break for the crew. The best-case scenario was that a new biochemist might make it to Titan in round three months. Chayka was appalled.

  While he was making his call, the ship leaped forward on the next step of its voyage, Mars receding rapidly in the rear view-screen as the space hook took hold. This time there was no announcement and no party in the lounge. Nobody felt like celebrating. In fact, nobody wanted to see Mars again for some considerable time – if ever.

  Chayka fixed himself some hot chocolate and settled down to think. He knew his chances of achieving a positive result with mass PHASEing had died with Dr Fournier. He could still work on the equations but without the DNA samples he couldn’t make further progress. He now had to decide whether there was any way the team could move forward on the life-generation project in the absence of a sub-quantal biochemist. He knew his lack of empathy was considered by many to be a severe character flaw but it had the decided benefit of enabling him to continue functioning even after an event that had shaken his colleagues to the core. He smiled to himself. That was why he was so successful.

  Chapter 5

  Deira opened her eyes, awareness returning slowly. Coming round from a PHASE was more like coming round from general anaesthesia than from normal sleep. There was that strange feeling of no elapsed time between loss of consciousness and waking up. There was also a sense of deep unease, as if the body somehow remembered being torn apart and reassembled and was coming to terms with an entirely new set of atoms. Nobody had ever found a physical reason for this, and it had eventually been labelled “psychological”. Most agents felt it had a deeper explanation and had coined a phrase to describe it – “the cells remember”.

  She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the couch before tentatively standing up. She felt pretty good considering she’d just PHASEd three hundred and eighty-five-thousand kilometres through vacuum. Her balance was unimpaired and there was no evidence of nausea, photophobia or cramps, the tell-tale signs of a bad PHASE. Everything was on the green. She was so engrossed in self-analysis she was startled when the door to the chamber snapped open and Adam put his head in, a big smile on his face.

  ‘You coming out of there? We need to get on to PHASE Two of this little jaunt.’

  Deira grinned and left the chamber. ‘Can’t say I’m so keen myself but I guess that wasn’t too bad.’

  In truth, it had been like any other PHASE. The new tech had performed right on the button and she felt far more confident about the next transmission. Adam was also more upbeat. His shit-scared look and sickly smile were gone and he seemed his usual confident self again.

  The two agents had a few minutes wait while the local technician – Adam said his name was Paulo – conferred with Carl back on Earth. There was a good deal of checking of readouts and comparison of data but Paulo finally confirmed that PHASE One had been a huge success. Now they could move on to PHASE Two.

  Deira had never been one to avoid a challenge. To be absolutely honest, a sit down with a few drinks would have been her own preference at this point but she could see that Adam had got the bit between his teeth and was eager to get going again. Paulo returned to his bank of equipment and Adam was about to enter the PHASE chamber when his wrist console indicated an incoming call. It was the Director of Operations again.

  ‘Ah, SSA Clarke. Sorry to interrupt your schedule but I’m afraid your mission’s just become a bit more complicated. If you and SA MacMahon will take a seat I’ll explain.’

  ‘Yes sir. One second please while I let the techie know
.’

  Adam walked across to Paulo, who’d been looking enquiringly at him, and explained that they’d have to put things on hold for a minute because the Director was on the line. The techie was clearly impressed that they were having direct calls from the DO and placed his equipment into stand-by before discretely taking himself out of earshot. Adam returned to Deira and put his wrist console into conference mode, only to find that the Director had gone away to take an urgent call on another line. They sat quietly, wondering what this was all about, and finally the DO’s face reappeared on Adam’s virtual screen.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘Something that couldn’t wait.’ He looked at Deira. ‘Bit of background first, I think. SA MacMahon, you’ve recently graduated from the Academy. What did they tell you about Professor Sergei Chayka?’

  ‘Just what’s in the public domain, sir. Child prodigy, born in Vladivosktok and later sent to an academy in Moscow. Developed sub-quantal physics at the age of nineteen and produced the theory for the Quantum Vacuum Energy Reactor two years later. Won a Nobel Prize at twenty-three and took up the Lucasion Professorship at Cambridge at twenty-five. Basically, he’s been almost single-handedly responsible for the world we live in – QUAVERS, Q-ships, PHASEing – the lot.’

  ‘A very nice potted bio. The man is certainly amazing. Unfortunately, we’ve recently upset him by transferring him and his team off-world.’

  ‘I heard that on the news a few days ago,’ Deira said. ‘Something about an explosion at Cambridge?’

  ‘Yes, his team were performing experiments on the sub-quantal generation of life when oxygen leaked into the test atmosphere and caused the explosion. It was very destructive but, thankfully, nobody was killed. Since we were funding the work, our first thought was to have it discontinued. However, we were informed it could easily link-up with parallel work on artificial intelligence, with potentially massive benefits, so we decided on a different approach. Titan, the sixth moon of Saturn, has no oxygen in its atmosphere, making it a safe environment for this type of work. As we’ve recently established a research base there, it seemed a logical place to transfer this particular project to. The Q-ship, with the team on board, left five days ago.’