Judas Unchained

She went over to Andria McNowak, who was in charge of the control center. Heavily pregnant, she sat at the head table directing all the other operators as they gradually brought the network of manipulator stations up to their pre-storm readiness status. There was a constant background mutter as they talked to the array. Not for the first time, Samantha wished OCtattoos and inserts were as common here as they were in the Commonwealth.

The Barsoomians were standing behind them, monitoring the performance of the large array’s bioprocessors. In the gloomy light of the cave their gray robes of semiorganic fabric gave them a spectral presence, enhanced by the impenetrable shadows that filled their hoods.

Samantha gave them a slight bow.

“Greetings to you, Samantha McFoster,” one said.

She recognized the deep whispering voice from the faint reverberation it always carried. “Dr. Friland, thank you for coming.”

“These are fascinating times. We are pleased to help remove this blight from our planet.”

“There is a rumor your people will help Bradley Johansson on Highway One. Is that true?”

For a moment Samantha wondered if she’d been too abrupt. People always skated around issues with Barsoomians, fearful to give offense; but today was too important for that kind of political nicety crap. She was aware of Valentine holding his breath beside her.

“We are watching events along Highway One,” Dr. Friland said. “We will offer assistance where practical.”

“I’m sure Johansson will be grateful for any support.” She smiled awkwardly at the fluid shadows inside his hood, and turned to Andria, who was giving her a reproachful look. “Have you loaded in the Martian data?”

“Yeah,” Andria said. She faced the front again, and gestured at the portal that was projecting a topographic map of the Dessault range from the Grand Triad in the west across to the Institute valley in the east. It looked like the cloudscape of some gas giant, with the tips of the mountains poking through as various fast-moving stormbands streamed past them. “We’re running the fifth simulation now. The genuine meteorological patterns allowed us to refine the behavioral algorithms. I don’t think the old software would have coped with the real thing. Even now, I’ve still got doubts. This is a lot more complex than we ever thought.”

“All we can do is give it our best shot. Have you got all the manipulator stations on-line?”

“Yeah.” Andria’s hand tapped at one of the screens on her table. It showed the stations scattered across the Dessault range linked together by thin red lines. The main communications relays were handled by masers, set up at high altitude on remote pinnacles, and protected by force fields. Samantha had always been skeptical about how they would hold together in the midst of the superstorm, but short of laying armored cables right across the range they had no choice. It was one of the reasons they’d established the control center on Mount Idle, where they had direct line of sight with Mount Herculaneum. They were also far enough south to escape the direct blast of the storm when it came.

“How’s Zuggenhim Ridge?” Samantha asked.

Andria grinned knowingly, and pulled up the telemetry. “Sweet. You did a good job.”

“Thanks. And the observation team?”

“Ours? They’re not going to make it; they’re still a couple of hours from the glacier ring. It’s down to the navy people now. Do you think they can land up there?”

“I don’t know. They think they can. We just have to wait and see.”

“There’s no way we can do this blind.”

“You’re going to have to draw up a contingency for that just the same.”

“Yeah right,” Andria declared sarcastically.

“Shame Qatux stayed with Bradley. We could do with that kind of brain-power to help us out right now.”

“I don’t think even a Raiel would be any use to us now,” Andria said.

Both the Barsoomians turned to face them. The shadows thinned out inside Dr. Friland’s hood, allowing green eyes to gaze down on Samantha. “Did you say a Raiel is on Far Away?”

Samantha looked up to the tall Barsoomian; for some inexplicable reason she felt guilty, as if she’d been concealing the fact from them. “Yes. It’s traveling with Bradley Johansson. I don’t know much about it; this is all secondhand gossip from Adam’s team.”

“It must not come to harm.”

Samantha took in the control center with an impatient gesture. “We’re doing our best.”

“Short-wave signal,” Andria announced. “Strong one. Coming from the west.”

“Adam’s team,” Samantha said. “Is it for us?”

“Hang on.” Andria touched several icons on her screen.

***