"Has anyone tried raising Nike?"
"We will as soon as we get out of the wreck. Most of the systems are shut down right now."
Joe saw the others slowly emerge from the hole he'd made on his impromptu exit. Once more he was astonished that he was still alive. Either his suit had taken the impact with amazing resilience; or, more likely, the chair had spun as he went through the air and broken the window in front of him. He had no memory himself of the sequence of events involved. And then—which he also did not remember at all—the seat must have twisted around and absorbed most of the impact of his final Marsfall. However it had happened, he'd been incredibly lucky not only to survive, but with no injuries worse than a broken leg.
The five distant figures lowered a limp sixth to the dusty soil. "Rich, I know it doesn't mean much. But I think Ryu wouldn't mind being the first person buried on Mars."
Skibow was silent for so long that Joe was afraid he'd angered the other man again. Rich and Dr. Sakai had been very close friends.
Then he heard a sigh. "Yeah. You're right. If he were alive, he'd probably be tickled pink."
Bruce's voice broke in. "I've got the radio working again."
For a moment all four people on the Nike's bridge stared in disbelief. Then Jackie answered, her voice cracking with disbelieving joy. "Bruce? You're all right!"
"Well, yeah, it would seem so."
"Is everyone okay?" Ken Hathaway asked.
"I am afraid not, Captain," Madeline Fathom's voice responded. "Dr. Sakai did not survive the crash."
Jane, who had brightened immeasurably upon hearing Irwin's voice, closed her eyes and swallowed. She'd also been a good friend of the Japanese areologist.
Hathaway sighed. "Understood. I'll see to it his next of kin is informed, back on Earth. How is everyone else?"
"Joe Buckley has a broken leg—how bad we will determine shortly. He may also have a concussion. The rest of us seem to be healthy. But given that all of us apparently lost consciousness on impact, we must be alert for concussion as well."
"No 'apparently' about it, Madeline, unless you people have been awake for almost two hours."
"Not that long, no, although we have been active for some time. External links were being sent through John Carter's systems and, as those were no longer active, we had to get out of the shuttle before we attempted contact again. Before doing so, we extricated Dr. Sakai from where he had been pinned. Perhaps we should have attempted contact earlier, but . . . We just couldn't leave him there."
"Yes, I understand. What condition is John Carter in? And the supplies and equipment on board?"
"The lander is . . . a wreck. I'm not even sure it could be repaired in a real dry dock. We certainly can't. As for the other, we simply don't know yet. We'll need a few hours, I think, before we can give you a solid assessment of the state of our equipment."
"All right. The main thing is that most of you are still alive. I can't tell you how relieved we are."
"Yes. Fathom out."
Jackie sagged back into the chair. Alive. They're alive!
Then she stood up so suddenly she almost separated from the deck again. "Okay. So they're alive. But now we have to figure out how to keep them that way."
Satya Gupta nodded. "Indeed, Ms. Secord, indeed that is our next order of business. They will need supplies, beyond any doubt. It is our job to devise some method to get those supplies to them."
Hathaway frowned. "Can you get anything to them? We don't have any other atmosphere capable vehicles. In fact, we have damn few things worth calling vehicles at all, except Nike—which certainly can't make a trip down."
"Can we?" Gupta's voice sounded almost offended. "Of course it can be done! We have almost limitless energy, we have all the equipment of Nike, and we have the knowledge with which to do it. It can be done. It will be done, for it must be done."
Jackie nodded. "There's got to be a way, Captain. Our only real enemy is time. It depends on how long they can hold out. When Madeline reports back . . . Well, if they're so bad off all they have is their suit resources, I don't know. But if they can manage even a week or two . . . We'll find a way to send them what they need if we have to get out there and push it to Mars!"
* * *
Madeline, a tiny figure against the hulking backdrop of John Carter, began moving towards Joe. "I'll check Joe. Helen, give me a hand, would you? You're the only one here besides myself who has much experience with field medicine. Then we have to assess our resources. Our prospects are chancy, I'm afraid."