Read Online Marooned! by Brad Strickland, THOMAS E. FULLER - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Brad Strickland, THOMAS E. FULLER
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through the maze of struts, and hung there gasping. Alex let go of the line. It fed through the pulley, the brake weakened, and the windmill blades fell outward. There was a shuddering snap. Somewhere below them the lower blade had broken off short. The rest of the assembly plunged down to the surface.
“Give me your safety line,” Alex commanded.
It took every bit of nerve that Sean could summon, but he pulled the line out of its reel and passed it up. Alex fastened it into the track with a click. “Now give me your hand.”
In a few seconds, Sean was back atop the tower, his head spinning. “I owe you big, man.”
“Ice,” Alex said with a sickly grin. “Man, look back there.” He pointed.
In the far distance Sean could see the writhing form of a dust devil, far south of Marsport. “They’re starting early today.”
“Better get down.”
The descent was hard. Sean’s knees kept wanting to give way. By the time they reached the bottom of the ladder they could see the transport speeding up the rutted road toward them.
“Jenny was right,” Sean said. “I could’ve killed myself up there.”
“Could’ve but didn’t,” Alex said. “Could’ve been me just as well. But stay sharp. Be better tomorrow.”
“You want to partner me again?” Sean asked, surprised.
“Yeah, sure. You just forgot for a second, that’s all. You won’t do it again. I know from now on you’re going to remember.”
“What, to latch my safety line?”
“No,” Alex said. “That Mars has a million ways to kill you. That’s all.”
CHAPTER 6
6.1
To Sean’s relief, in the days that followed Alex never so much as mentioned the accident. It took them another two days to finish the repairs, and then some of it had to be done over again when another dust devil took out six more of the windmills. On the third morning of the repair mission, Sean had doubted that he would be able to make the long, frightening climb again, but once he had gotten started he had found the ascents were actually a little easier. At least his achy muscles were in better shape. And Alex had been right about one thing: Sean did not forget his safety line again.
With full power restored at last, lessons began again. Dr. Ellman leaned hard on them all to make up for lost time in their physical science sessions, andhe was quick to threaten Sean with a forced return to Earth if he fell behind.
Fortunately Nickie Mikhailova seemed to take pity on Sean and tutored him in math and chemistry. It wasn’t really her fiel; she was a computer specialist, and she had even built her own personal computer—a tiny voice-activated thing the size of a paperback book—from scratch. Still, she knew a lot about science, and with her drilling him and Jenny Laslo prodding him, Sean began to make some sense of the equations and the strange symbols. He even began to pull off experiments with no virtual explosions, something that he welcomed even if the development seemed to disappoint Mickey Goldberg, who complained more than once that the fireworks display had been postponed again.
Sean fell more and more into the rhythm of life in Marsport. After more than a full month on Mars, he began to sleep better. All the Martian clocks automatically compensated for the difference between an Earth day and a Martian one. EachMartian hour was a little more than a minute and a half longer than an Earth hour, and there were twenty-four hours in a Martian day, just as in an Earth day. Still, for someone newly arrived from Earth, the extra minute and a half added up. It was as if each day went on a little too long. For the first few weeks, newcomers to Mars felt constantly jet-lagged, as if they were out of synch and out of step with everyone else. And they were, because their biological clocks were slow to adjust.
But gradually the human body was able to get used to the new “day,” and finally Sean began to feel like his old self. He was no longer waking up tired, anyway. The
“Give me your safety line,” Alex commanded.
It took every bit of nerve that Sean could summon, but he pulled the line out of its reel and passed it up. Alex fastened it into the track with a click. “Now give me your hand.”
In a few seconds, Sean was back atop the tower, his head spinning. “I owe you big, man.”
“Ice,” Alex said with a sickly grin. “Man, look back there.” He pointed.
In the far distance Sean could see the writhing form of a dust devil, far south of Marsport. “They’re starting early today.”
“Better get down.”
The descent was hard. Sean’s knees kept wanting to give way. By the time they reached the bottom of the ladder they could see the transport speeding up the rutted road toward them.
“Jenny was right,” Sean said. “I could’ve killed myself up there.”
“Could’ve but didn’t,” Alex said. “Could’ve been me just as well. But stay sharp. Be better tomorrow.”
“You want to partner me again?” Sean asked, surprised.
“Yeah, sure. You just forgot for a second, that’s all. You won’t do it again. I know from now on you’re going to remember.”
“What, to latch my safety line?”
“No,” Alex said. “That Mars has a million ways to kill you. That’s all.”
CHAPTER 6
6.1
To Sean’s relief, in the days that followed Alex never so much as mentioned the accident. It took them another two days to finish the repairs, and then some of it had to be done over again when another dust devil took out six more of the windmills. On the third morning of the repair mission, Sean had doubted that he would be able to make the long, frightening climb again, but once he had gotten started he had found the ascents were actually a little easier. At least his achy muscles were in better shape. And Alex had been right about one thing: Sean did not forget his safety line again.
With full power restored at last, lessons began again. Dr. Ellman leaned hard on them all to make up for lost time in their physical science sessions, andhe was quick to threaten Sean with a forced return to Earth if he fell behind.
Fortunately Nickie Mikhailova seemed to take pity on Sean and tutored him in math and chemistry. It wasn’t really her fiel; she was a computer specialist, and she had even built her own personal computer—a tiny voice-activated thing the size of a paperback book—from scratch. Still, she knew a lot about science, and with her drilling him and Jenny Laslo prodding him, Sean began to make some sense of the equations and the strange symbols. He even began to pull off experiments with no virtual explosions, something that he welcomed even if the development seemed to disappoint Mickey Goldberg, who complained more than once that the fireworks display had been postponed again.
Sean fell more and more into the rhythm of life in Marsport. After more than a full month on Mars, he began to sleep better. All the Martian clocks automatically compensated for the difference between an Earth day and a Martian one. EachMartian hour was a little more than a minute and a half longer than an Earth hour, and there were twenty-four hours in a Martian day, just as in an Earth day. Still, for someone newly arrived from Earth, the extra minute and a half added up. It was as if each day went on a little too long. For the first few weeks, newcomers to Mars felt constantly jet-lagged, as if they were out of synch and out of step with everyone else. And they were, because their biological clocks were slow to adjust.
But gradually the human body was able to get used to the new “day,” and finally Sean began to feel like his old self. He was no longer waking up tired, anyway. The
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