Andromeda - 06 - Marineris

In 2004, the European Space Agency decides to launch a manned Mission to investigate strange structures discovered on the surface of Mars. But just weeks before lift off, the team engineer, Nicole Duchanet, is knocked down and killed under suspicious circumstances.

Her friend sets out to uncover the perpetrators of the plot which have ulterior motives in sabotaging the Mission. Although the team eventually makes the trip, Marianne is forced to remain on the Red Planet. Can she survive alone? Will any of them get home safely? And who is so determined to prevent the mission being a success?

Moderately explicit in places. 
Continue only if you are not offended by this.

ONE

The fair-haired young woman watched the coffin of her friend being lowered slowly in to the rectangular hole in the ground. As the priest solemnly cast the first handful of soil onto the lid, Marianne let a brief smile touch her lips. Nicole had never been religious in the nine years they had known each other. 
     It was not that she had been an unbeliever. On the contrary, through her studies of cosmology, her friend had become convinced of some higher intelligence, but this belief had not been sufficient to inspire faith in, or allegience to, any particular church. However, Nicole's mother, had she lived, would have been pleased at the Latin mumbo-jumbo being uttered this cool February morning. 
     Marianne shivered a little as the cool breeze from Canigou whipped around the small graveyard at Sorede and looked surreptitiously around at her fellow mourners. No relatives. Nicole's mother had died in a car accident when Nicole was ten and her father had recently been knocked down close to his Dorset home in England. For her best friend to be also mowed down by a hit and run driver on the outskirts of Toulouse seemed too much of a coincidence. 
     At last, an "Amen" was said and repeated, and the small group which had surrounded the grave began to slip away to warmer places. Marianne watched them depart, most of them colleagues from either work or the University. Soon, she was alone. Alone except for the man in the trilby hat and pale raincoat, someone she did not recognise. 
     'Mademoiselle deBosvile,' he said as she turned towards her car. 
     She stopped a few feet away and looked at him through her dark veil, the first time in her life she had ever worn black. 'Oui, monsieur?' 
     'My name is Claude Marchant. I understand that you were Mademoiselle Duchanet's closest friend.' 
     'I think that I would prefer not to talk to the press at the moment,' she replied as politely as she could force herself to be. The vultures, it seems, were already gathering. 
     'I regret approaching you at such a time,' he persevered. 'But I have been assigned to investigate your friend's death.' 
     Marianne's deep blue eyes looked into his. 'What is there to investigate? Nicole was knocked down by a car which did not have the courtesy to stop.' 
     'I understand that you were very close.' 
     She started to walk again in the direction of her antique red Porsche. 'Very close, thank you.' 
     There was more than a hint of laughter in his voice. 'Yes, that is what everyone tells me. Very close indeed.' 
     The man was caught totally unprepared as Marianne whirled round and, before he knew it, had him pinned to a tree by the throat, her face inches from his own. 
     'You even hint at a lesbian relationship in your paper,' she hissed from between clenched teeth; 'and I will personally rip your frigging head off.' 
     In spite of his predicament, the grin returned to his face. 'Yes, I was also told of your prowess in Akido.' 
     'And I will sue your newspaper for every penny it has,' she added. 'I have the means.' 
     Yes, he thought, the Duchess of Ramsden has considerable power and resources. 'I'm sorry,' he finally said. 'I am just trying to bring things out into the open.' 
     'I have no skeletons in any of my cupboards, Monsieur Marchant. You must know that.' 
     'Even in your work for Europa?' he dared to add. 
     Her eyes closed to slits. 'I am not some secret agent. I am just a minder. Or at least, I was.' 
     'I know that,' he said quietly. 
     She let go of his shirt front and turned back towards her car, wrenching open the door with far more force than was needed. 'You know nothing!' 
     'I know that Mademoiselle Duchanet's death was no accident,' he said quietly. 
     Marianne paused, half in and half out of her car, her short skirt almost up to her waist, her long suntanned legs clearly at their best. 
     'Talk to my father,' she suddenly said and rammed the key into the ignition. 
     'I already did that.' 
     She slammed the door but wound down the window. 'And?' 
     He smiled again. He had to be in his late thirties and not terribly smart. An independent reporter, Marianne supposed. 'He told me to speak to you.' 
     She paused, staring ahead out of the windscreen. 'Ring me tomorrow morning.' 
     He leant toward her, resting one hand on the shiny bonnet. 'Tomorrow may be too late.' 
     She turned her head towards him. 'For me? Or for you?' 
     Before he could answer, the engine roared into life and he had to leap out of the way to avoid her spinning wheels. As he watched her turn left towards Laroque des Albères, he shook his head sadly.

TWO

Marianne was lying by the pool when Claude arrived at eleven. His call had come at nine and she had reluctantly agreed to meet at Nicole's villa in La Vallée Heureuse. Seeing his Citroen pull into the drive, she reached over and retrieved her bikini top, clipping it over her pert breasts as she walked towards him. In spite of the time of year, the temperature was in the seventies, a product, she had heard, of El Niño.
     'Drink?' she asked politely.
     He nodded, still in his raincoat despite the warmth. 'S'il vous plait.'
     Marianne gestured to a young woman who held a tray of soft drinks towards him. 'Merci, Nathalie.' And then to him. 'Are you not hot?'
     'A little,' he agreed. 'But I get used to it. You never know what the weather will do these days. Yesterday, it is cool, today, warm.'
     She indicated a sun bed. 'Please take a seat.'
     He did.
     'So how how can I help you?'
     'I just need some background information on Mademoiselle Duchanet.'
     'Such as?'
     'Well I know about her work, I know how smart she was. How did you meet?'
     Marianne leant back, relaxing. 'It was in the English Lake District nine years ago. We were both on holiday with our respective fathers. Nicole and I literally cannoned into each other in the doorway of a pub in Great Langdale.'
     'She was an only child?'
     Marianne nodded. 'Yes, we both were.'
     'How old were you at the time?'
     'I was eighteen, Nicole was sixteen.'
     'And the friendship developed?'
     Marianne nodded again. 'We kept in touch while we were at college.'
     Claude made a few notes. 'What did you study?'
     'I did Psychology at Magdelene College, Cambridge.'
     'And Mademoiselle Duchanet?'
     'Quantum Physics.'
     'At Toulouse?'
     'No, at the Planck Institute in Edinburgh. But when she died, she was reading Higher Quantum Mechanics at Toulouse Ecole Aerospaciale in preparation for the Marineris Mission.'
     'Marineris Mission?'
     'Nicole was going to Mars.'
     'But she was so young.'
     'Her father helped design the rocket propulsion unit for Ariane.'
     'I see. Is that why she needed a minder?'
     Marianne nodded once more. 'One of the reasons. There were other reasons, but I don't intend to go into those now.'
     'Not the death threats?'
     Marianne looked at him long and hard. 'How do you know about the death threats?'
     He shrugged. 'I have my sources.'
     'If you intend leaving here in one piece, I suggest you inform me of your sources.'
     'I came to ask the questions,' he said drily.
     'Then you will need to answer some of mine.'
     He started to get up. 'I think that....' 
     A hand rested on his shoulder. 'Asseyez vous, monsieur,' said Nathalie firmly.
     While he was still stunned, Marianne was on her feet like a cat, grasping his coat lapels in both hands and falling towards the water of the pool. They hit the surface together and sank deep, Marianne kicking out for the bottom, three metres down.
     Claude gasped as he struggled, but Marianne was far stronger and held him under. Just as the last bubbles trickled from his mouth, she straightened her legs and propelled them both to the surface. Marianne's hands were around his throat as he gasped for breath. 'Are you going to tell me? Or do we dive again?'
     Claude coughed and spluttered. The two girls dragged him from the pool and dumped him on the tiles. Marianne jumped out of the water. 'Okay, monsieur, talk. Tell me how a part time reporter from a national newspaper knows things which have not yet been discussed at director level at Europa.'
     'Someone at the college told me.'
     'No-one at the college knew.' She dropped to her haunches beside him and he was reminded that those soft-looking hands on her hips were capable of killing. 'I was the only person who knew of the death threats, other than the people who sent them. I have just lost my best friend to a bunch of perverts and I have no intention of letting this go away quietly. I have no idea who you really are but you had better start to tell me soon or Nathalie and I will become very angry.'
     He looked from one to the other of the girls and decided to give in. One, he knew, had a black belt in Karate as well as being an instructor of Akido. The other was an ex pentathlon team member. They were disturbed by the roar of a motor bike and, seconds later, a tall girl with long flowing fair hair walked onto the patio carrying her crash helmet. At the sight beside the pool, she paused and then said in perfect English. 'Can I join in the fun?'
     'This guy says he is from a newspaper,' explained Marianne. 'But he knows too much.'
     Ali grinned. 'So do we kill him or what?'
     Claude suddenly looked terrified. He knew that twenty-year-old Alison Hart modelled for one of the leading Paris fashion houses. But she was also a fitness instructor at the space academy in Toulouse which meant that these three girls were quite capable of tearing him apart, limb from limb.
     'Okay,' he said. 'You win.'
     Marianne smiled as she took his jaw in one hand but there was menace in her voice and eyes. 'So talk, dummy.'
     He looked at the three determined faces. 'I'm with Interpol.'
     Marianne held out her other hand. 'Identification.'
     He paused, then delved in an interior pocket to produce the necessary documentation. Marianne shook the water off it and then examined it carefully before passing it to Nathalie. 'When you dispose of his body, leave this with it.'
     Claude panicked. 'B..b..body?'
     She stood up, and from floor level her bikini seemed even smaller and tighter. But at that precise moment, sex with this beautiful young woman was a long way down his list of priorities.
     'As long as your tongue is active,' she told him; 'so is your heart. So start talking and we may reconsider your future.' 
     With some difficulty, he knelt up and then sat back on the sunbed in his wet clothes. He was shivering. 
     Marianne shook her head sadly. 'Better get out of those wet things. Take him in the shower, girls.'

THREE

Five minutes later, there was warm water cascading over him as he stood there in his boxer shorts with Ali and Nathalie either side of him in their undies, rubbing him down. When he ventured into the patio lounge, Marianne had removed her bikini and donned shorts and cropped tee shirt. He gingerly sat on the settee facing her armchair. 
     She simply gestured for him to speak as Ali and Nathalie entered wearing matching white towelling dressing gowns. 
     'Where do you want me to start?' 
     'With how you know Nicole's death was no accident.' 
     He glanced briefly at the girls either end of the long settee he was on before facing Marianne. 'She had death threats from the Mafia,' he said. 
     Marianne nodded. 'I know that. But why?' 
     'Because of her background.' 
     'What do you know of her background?' 
     'We know she was abused by her father.' 
     'How do you know?' 
     'Because he was under investigation when he died.' 
     'You mean when he was executed. Go on.' 
     He blinked at Marianne's forthrightness. 'We also know about the pictures on the Internet.' 
     'How?' 
     'Because Mademoiselle Duchanet copied all her data onto six separate servers and left a note of her password with her family solicitor who was to contact us if anything happened to her.' 
     'So how much do you know?' 
     'We know that her father raped her when she was ten years old.' 
     Marianne said nothing. Few people were privy to that information. 'And what about Claire Brown?' 
     He blinked. 'Claire Brown?' 
     'The au pair who died.' 
     'I know nothing of this.' 
     She suddenly leant forward. 'No, the local police covered it up nicely. She was murdered by the mob just before they killed Nicole's mother.' 
     'I have no information on that.' 
     'Then you have no idea what this is really all about, have you?' 
     'I don't get told everything.' 
     'It seems that you know very little, monsieur. Nicole was treated like a dog by men who didn't care how much they hurt her, physically or emotionally. But if you came here thinking this is merely a vice problem, you are grossly misinformed.' 
     'And her father let it happen?' 
     'They gave him no choice. If he didn't keep up a supply of pornographic photos and videos, they said they would pour acid all over her as well as kill him.' 
     'I had no idea it was that bad.' 
     'It took me a long time to get the details out of her and I was sick the whole night after she told me what they had done to her over the years.' 
     'So that's why they killed her?' 
     'Partly.' 
     'Only partly?' 
     'There was another reason which only she and I knew about. Though they probably suspected what she was going to do.' 
     'And that was?' 
     'She kept a list of names and dates in the files you referred to. She was going to expose them from Mars orbit where she was beyond their reach. So, instead, they killed her first.' 
     'But why so far before the launch?' 
     'Because the launch date has been changed.' 
     'Changed?' 
     'Brought forward to this March.' 
     'This March? But that's only....' 
     'Three weeks. The craft is already assembled in orbit. It was simply down to the final choice of personnel to be lifted up to it by shuttle.' 
     'How many were going?' 
     'Originally three; pilot, engineer and navigator. But it was then changed to five so that two scientists could be taken along to study the Marineris structures.' 
     'So what happens now that Mademoiselle Duchanet is not available?' 
     'I don't know. Some who came to the funeral today feared the mission would be cancelled, or at least delayed indefinitely.' 
     'Surely they can go at any time.' 
     Marianne smiled. 'There are windows where travel to Mars is possible. Miss this one and they will have to wait two years.' 
     'How do you know so much about this?' 
     'Because I have been with Nicole all through her training. I think you could say that what she knew, I know.' 
     He looked straight at her. 'So you could go in her place.' 
     'It is not quite that easy.' 
     'Why not?' 
     Marianne was silent. 
     'I think he has a point,' said Nathalie unexpectedly. 'You could easily replace Nicole.' 
     Marianne stood up, wringing her hands. 'I'm not sure....' 
     'Speak to the directorate. As you said, what she knew, you know.' 
     'But I am not an qualified physicist. And I have had no astronaut training.' 
     'You have had as much as Nicole.' 
     'Why don't you try?' suggested Claude. 
     Marianne turned on him. 'You keep out of this.' 
     'I'm only trying to help.' 
     'Then don't.' 
     'But I would like to help. Your friend seemed a very nice person.' 
     'She was a wonderful person,' snapped Marianne. 'And I'll kick the shit out of anyone who says different.' 
     Claude help up his hands defensively. 'Hey, girls, I'm on your side.' 
     'But you didn't have to scrape her off the road when that car knocked her off her bike, did you? They must have known in advance the route she would take.' 
     'Her bike?' 
     'She cycled a minimum of twenty miles a day on her mountain bike to keep fit.' 
     'And the mob knew this?' 
     'They weren't supposed to. She went by a different route each day and followed no fixed pattern. I was paid to protect her from this.' 
     'But you didn't.' 
     'I had the flu and Nicole persuaded me to stay in bed. If I had been there....' 
     'You cannot blame yourself.' 
     'Look, sunshine, who is the psychologist round here? You or me?' 
     He grinned. 'You win.' 
     'Stay to lunch,' she suddenly said. 'And then get the hell out of our lives.'


FOUR

'Why did you tell them who you were?' his senior officer demanded to know. 
     'I had little choice. They seemed to know most of it already.' 
     'And you say they knew about Claire Brown.' 
     'They seemed to. Who was she?' 
     'Some teenager they had in to teach Mademoiselle Duchanet English.' 
     'Why English?' 
     'A whim of her father. I suspect that the girl also had other uses.' 
     'Such as?' 
     'Use your imagination, Claude.' 
     'Mademoiselle deBosvile said the au pair was only fourteen when she died.' 
     There was a pause before the voice came back. 'It is thought that she was a runaway which is why few questions were asked when she disappeared.' 
     'Disappeared? I thought she died.' 
     'The body was never found. According to Mademoiselle Duchanet's files, her father used the teenager regularly to take porno pictures for the internet. But the mob wanted more.' 
     'More?' 
     'They had hundreds of nude photographs of young Nicole when she was a child, but her father refused to allow actual sex shots. So they used Claire Brown instead. Six men were brought in to rape her on film. Mademoiselle Nicole describes how she was kept outside but heard the screaming as they abused the girl. She was never seen alive again after that day.' 
     'And how does this relate to the death of Madame Duchanet?' 
     'We have no details as to whether Madame Duchanet was involved in the activity. All we do know is that she believed that the Mademoiselle Brown died from her abuse and she threatened to expose the mob.' 
     'And she was killed, too.' 
     'We don't know that. The only details we have is that she died in a traffic accident the next day.' 
     'Convenient, huh?' 
     'Extremely convenient.' 
     'Is this why Monsieur Duchanet took his daughter to England?' 
     'We believe so. And if the files are correct, this is where the abuse of his own daughter began. You really don't want to know the details, Claude.' 
     'Mademoiselle deBosvile gave me some indication. It sounded bad.' 
     'It was, and how that girl survived with a sane mind is beyond me.' 
     'So what do you want me to do?' 
     'For one thing, keep your head down. Get too close and big men with bulges in their raincoats will come after you.' 
     'Can we not stop them? We are supposed to be, after all, the FBI of Europe.' 
     'Claude, you simply have no idea who you are dealing with here. This is not just a mob thing. Yes, the photos and video tapes were being shipped out to Russia for distribution, but the people who did the dirty work are here in France and over there in Britain.' 
     'Then they must be caught and exposed.' 
     There was a long pause. 'Claude, this goes right to the top. Big men paid big money to use that girl.' 
     It was Claude's turn to be silent for a while. 'So what is next?' 
     'Slowly, slowly, catchee monkey, my friend.' 
     'Are you suggesting that I back off?' 
     'Not at all. The French police successfully covered up the early deaths so don't push too hard there. And ease up on Mademoiselle deBosvile. She too has powerful friends.' 
     'In the mob?' 
     The voice laughed. 'Not that kind of friend. Her grandfather, as you know from the reports, was the local resistance leader during the war. Then, he worked undercover for French Securité for years.' 
     'But he is an old man.' 
     'He is now. But Rouel deBosvile has contacts which could make your hair curl. He might look the poor old restauranteur but he has bite, and so does that fiery grand-daughter of his. Tread carefully, Claude. This is not a normal police matter. Our problem is to sort out who is on whose side. You and I are the pawns in a very expensive game.' 
     'Game?' 
     'You don't think that Marineris is being funded publicly, do you?' 
     'I always thought Nasa was involved.' 
     'The Yanks don't have this kind of money any more, Claude, nor the support of the American people in general, especially after the cock-up over Mars Polar Lander. No, this is all privately funded now by the Europa Corporation.' 
     'But it must cost billions.' 
     'Trillions. But there is the possibility of great mineral wealth on Mars such as Deuterium deposits valued at over a billion pounds per tonne. They'd get a return on their investment fairly quickly. Also, there will be museums all over the world who will pay handsomely for artifacts from Marineris.' 
     'I really must study up on the mission.' 
     'You, must, Claude. Who knows what they may find?' 
     'Okay, so what do I do now?' 
     'Go and have a meal at that favourite bar of yours, have a good night's rest, and ring back tomorrow. I will speak to the Commissioner and let you know.' 
     'D'accord,' replied Claude. 'I will call you in the morning.' 
     He replaced the receiver, made a few notes, and thought long and hard. Outside, the sun was already going down and it was becoming somewhat chilly. He would have a brief rest then pop down to Chez Louis for a meal and a few beers. Reaching over, he turned on the gas fire and clicked his lighter close to the elements. 
     Watchers in the street below remembered the explosion which shook the entire block, were showered with glass from the windows, and then looked on in horror as half the building collapsed into itself, killing several people in lower apartments, and leaving dozens of others dreadfully injured. It took all night to put out the resulting fire.

FIVE

Doctor Marcel Froment looked up as the door to his office banged open and a young woman pushed herself past the protesting secretary. Marianne was dressed in a smart red jacket and matching short skirt. The sunglasses came off to reveal angry eyes. 'Why are you refusing to see me?' 
     'Mademoiselle deBosvile, I....' 
     She leaned over the desk, her face close enough for him to see his own reflection in her pupils. 'Don't patronise me, Monsieur le Directeur. I know when I am being given the run around. You haven't answered any of my e-mails and refuse to take my calls.' 
     'Marianne, I am a very busy man.' 
     'Busy? I proposed the answer to your predicament.' 
     'It is not as easy as you suggest. I cannot just substitute you at this late stage.' 
     'You have someone else? Someone better qualified, perhaps?' 
     'No, it is not that.' 
     'Then what is it?' 
     'Sit down, please.' He indicated a black leather chair beside his desk. 
     'I'd rather stand.' 
     'If you antagonise me, young lady, I will call security and have you thrown out.' 
     Marianne opened her mouth to retaliate then thought better of it and, after a delay, sat down. 
     The Mission Director smiled. 'Thank you.' 
     'So?' 
     'So why do I oppose you going to Mars? Is that what you mean?' 
     'Yes. Am I not adequately qualified?' 
     'Well, do you have the knowledge?' 
     'Of what?' 
     'Physics, for one thing. For instance, what do you know of the Dirac Constant?' 
     Marianne simply stared at him across his desk. 
     He grinned. 'I thought so. Your knowledge has its limitations.' 
     'Equal to the Planck constant divided by two times pi,' said Marianne quietly but confidently. 'Paul Adrian Dirac discovered that it has a value of one point zero five four four, plus or minus zero point zero zero zero three, times ten to the power of minus thirty-four joule seconds.' 
     'And what do you know about Relativity?' 
     'It has been proposed that the mass loss of a particle is precisely equal to the resulting energy divided by the speed of light squared.' 
     'And are you satisfied with that conclusion in the light of recent cosmological discoveries?' 
     She shook her head. 'Einstein was partly wrong in that when formulating his famous theorem he hadn't anticipated that the resulting dilation co-efficient of the diffused mass is not always directly proportional to the relative compound velocity of the initial energy release at source.' 
     One of the Director's eyebrows went up briefly. 'Well, your knowledge of Quantum Mechanics is not in doubt. But are you fit for the Mission?' 
     'I think so. I stuck with Nicole all through her training. As her minder, I had to.' 
     'I was more concerned with your mental and emotional fitness. Two years is an awful long time to be alone with four other crew members.' 
     'What are you trying to suggest?' 
     'I am saying that your physical and educational abilities have never seriously been in doubt. It is your emotions which let you down.' 
     Her voice went up a semitone. 'My emotions? What is wrong with my emotions?' 
     The Director remained calm. 'Marianne, you are currently, and understandably, upset. You are also quite unlike Nicole in many vital aspects. Nicole was brilliant, we all know that. But she was calm and collected. She thought things through logically and carefully before reaching a conclusion. Her mind worked like a computer and got things right ninety-nine percent of the time. To my knowledge, she has never made a rash decision.' 
     'And I am different?' 
     'Very different. You drive by the seat of your pants, you think on the run, you stab at things in the dark. Marianne, you are a loose cannon on deck. Nicole was always dependably predictable, you are quite unpredictable all the time. No-one has any idea what you are going to do next. You play your cards close to your very delectable chest, you act by instinct. You are not going to replace Nicole Duchanet as Mission Engineer and that is final.' 
     Marianne sat quietly. 
     He sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers confidently. 'In fact, the only predictable thing you have ever done in your entire life is to come here today.' 
     She said nothing. Eventually, she got up and turned to go but then paused and faced him. 'Thank you for being so honest with me.' 
     He smiled and nodded, waited for her to reach the door, and then said; 'There is something else.' 
     She paused and turned to hear the rest of the bad news. 
     'Your qualities are admirable, Marianne.' 
     'Thank you,' she said quietly. 
     'That is why the Directorate have chosen you, not as Engineer, but as Captain.' 
     Marianne was stunned. 
     He leant forward again, his elbows on the polished surface of his desk. 'You do not have the necessary analytical mind of an Engineer. Nicole had, and we will struggle to find a replacement for her. But the qualities you have will almost certainly be needed to get your crew safely back from the surface of Mars.' He smiled genuinely. 'Welcome to the team.'

SIX

When Marianne told the other girls, they were ecstatic. 
     'Does the launch go ahead on the same date, as planned?' asked the excited Ali. 
     'It has to. If we miss this window, the whole thing could be cancelled indefinitely.' 
     'So what does it mean for you?' 
     'A press conference this afternoon for a start, then a whole lot of hard work.' 
     'How does Jacques feel?' 
     'He is unhappy at being dropped, but I suspect that his wife is delighted now that she is expecting.' 
     'So who else has been picked?' 
     'Phil Thomas will still be navigator and Juan Fernandez from Madrid is likely to be substituted as Engineer. I don't know who the two scientists will be as they are company men.' 
     'Or women?' 
     Marianne nodded. 'Yes. One or both could very easily be women.' 
     'So when do you shuttle up to orbit?' 
     'The final shuttle has been scheduled for a week on Friday. We then stay overnight while the final adjustments are made to payload and then we launch as planned on the Saturday morning.' 
     'In the shuttle?' 
     Marianne shook her head. 'The main body and motor are already waiting in orbit. Taking us up independently makes it easier. We then launch, loop round Mars once, and the Lander module separates close to Deimos. The Engineer then stays with Orbiter II while the navigator and I descend to the surface with the experts.' 
     'How long will it take?' 
     'Just under six months to get there and a bit longer to get back. We have two windows for return. The first is a week after arrival, the other a month later. I hope we can be away within the week.' 
     Ali grinned. 'A bit remote for you?' 
     Marianne smirked. 'With four guys for company? Give me a break. No, the problem is oxygen. A week will be okay, but a month will vastly reduce the margin for error.' 
     'What's the atmosphere like there?' 
     'Thinner than here, which is why Nicole and I have been training so high in the Pyrenees. The mix is different, but filters can utilise some of the extant gases.' 
     'Will you need space suits?' 
     'Not on the surface, at least not the heavy ones that we use on Luna. A lightly pressurised environment suit with auxiliary air supply will be sufficient to keep us together.' 
     Ali frowned. 'Keep you together?' 
     Marianne nodded. 'The greatest danger is not the lack of oxygen, it is the lower atmospheric pressure which could cause the human body to literally explode. We have an internal pressure to match Earth's atmosphere. Reduction causes problems.' 
     'I wish I was going,' said Nathalie sadly. 
     'Wouldn't suit you,' said Marianne with a grin. 
     Nathalie frowned. 
     'My favourite colour is red. Yours is blue. You are obviously better suited for Earth.' 
     'So where do I get to go?' asked Ali, placing her hands on her slim waist. 'My favourite colour is green.' 
     Marianne laughed out loud. 'Neptune.' 
     Nathalie became more serious. 'When do we put our plan into operation?' 
     'Not before the launch. But before we leave orbit. Somehow, the switch must be made either at the launch site or while we are at Orion Space Station.' 
     She nodded. 'We've waited a long time for this.'

     The press conference was well attended and Marianne looked splendid in her pale blue flight suit. With her cheerful disposition, she charmed them all, and the members of the Directorate looked relaxed. The company then announced, by means of a carefully-worded press release read out by its Public Relations agent, the names of the scientists. They were both men who were generally unknown within the scientific community. 
     'Why has the landing zone been changed from that of the original Landers?' someone asked. 
     The company man answered them all. 'Because of the structures identified by the Mars Orbiter and later photographed in close-up detail by Hubble.' 
     'These structures are man made?' 
     'Not necessarily man made, but certainly by some kind of intelligent life form.' 
     'Then you really do expect to find little green men on Mars?' 
     Everyone laughed except the PR man. 'Not at all. It is highly unlikely that the beings responsible are still around. The dust deposits indicate that these are very ancient structures.' 
     'But not simply an optical illusion like the monkey head feature near Mount Olympus?' 
     The Public Relations man shook his head. 'Cydonia has been photographed from several different angles. The central area is a perfect circle with an even ridge surrounding it coming to a point precisely midway along it.' 
     'How big?' 
     'Possibly a mile in diameter and a hundred feet high. The valley is two miles deep at this point.' 
     'Do you intend to land the craft in the valley itself?' 
     The Director interrupted. 'No. The space craft has a new kind of nuclear drive which is why it has been assembled in orbit. But the Lander module will be solar powered and the valley bottom is in shadow for long periods. The actual landing zone is on a ridge close to Lascelle Crater. It is expected that a forward base can be established there.' 
     'Why?' asked a well-informed reporter. 'Marineris Valley runs east to west along the equator, does it not? It should be in sunlight the whole day.' 
     'More or less east to west, true, and it will indeed be lit throughout the day for several months of the Martian year which is almost double the length of our own. But unfortunately our drive limitations do not permit a landing during this period because the planet would be on the opposite side of the sun to ourselves, necessitating a far longer journey. If and when a more efficient form of propulsion is developed, cutting down the travel time, such luxuries could be considered. But in the meantime...' 
     'Has the Corporation not considered putting the crew to sleep for the journey?' 
     'Yes, it has. But the ship would need to be considerably larger than at present and, at the moment, cryonic technology has its limitations.' 
     'Will the mission be handicapped by the absence of Mademoiselle Duchanet?' 
     'Her replacement is perfectly capable of doing the job instead.' 
     'There is a rumour that her death was not an accident. Do you have any views on that?' 
     'No comment.' 
     'Nor on the fact that her parents both died in suspicious circumstances?'
     'No comment.' 
     'What about her threats to expose the Russian Mafia?' 
     'No comment.' 
     'And the rumours that she was abused as a child?' 
     'I am afraid that our time has run out,' said the company man. 'My assistants have a technical handout for you. Thank you for your interest in the Marineris Mission.'

SEVEN

Marianne's Porsche pulled into the restaurant car park and an elderly man came out in the evening sunset to greet her. 'How did it go, cherie?' 
     'Tres bien, merci, papa,' she replied, kissing his cheeks. 'And how has our guest been behaving today?' 
     'Restless, and fed up with being locked in the cellar.' 
     Marianne laughed. 'Okay, what's for dinner tonight?' 
     'Anything on the menu. Are your friends coming?' 
     'No, they are going dancing in Perpignan this evening. Ali has a fashion show at the exhibition centre till ten and then they will likely be out till the early hours. They deserve a night off.' 
     'I think our guest wants to see you right away, to shout at you a little, peut être.' 
     Marianne grinned. 'I'll go down immediately.' 
     She passed through the restaurant which at that early hour had few diners whom she greeted pleasantly before switching on the basement light and descending the stone steps of the wine cellar. At the end, behind some large wine casks was a smaller room with a heavy oak door. She turned the key and slipped inside. 
     Marianne was not totally prepared for the intense hug she received, nor the number of kisses, but she held onto her friend for a long time before stepping back and smiling. 'Papa tells me you are unhappy about being here.' 
     'Wouldn't you be?' asked Nicole Duchanet.

     The two young women ate calamares and rice together in near silence and drank the best white wine balanced on top of an upturned barrel. When finished, Nicole leant back and sighed. 'I will be glad when this is over, cherie.' 
     Marianne grinned. 'Me, too. But we must be patient.' 
     'But I am so bored down here. I need sunshine and exercise.' 
     'Exercise?' Marianne gestured towards the array of equipment. 'You have the best-equipped gymnasium in France. In Europe, possibly.' 
     'But I miss being out on my bike, the rush of adrenaline as I shoot off the edge of some mountain and recklessly plunge down an almost invisible trail.' 
     'Nicole, I am trying my best to keep you alive.' 
     The dark-haired girl leaned forward and grasped her friend's hands. 'I know you are. And I do appreciate it, I really do.' 
     'Okay, so what do you need the most? Let's see if we can accommodate you a little.' 
     'Fresh air, swimming, running...' 
     'Okay, one at a time. How about if we go to some deserted beach when it is quiet tonight. You can at least swim in the moonlight.' 
     'In the sea? When I have a perfectly good heated pool at home?' 
     'The villa is being watched.' 
     'What?' 
     'Day and night. We regularly see the glint of binoculars in the trees across the hillside.' 
     Nicole's lips curled. 'Dirty old men, I expect, trying get free pictures of your tits.' 
     'That's what Ali said, but Nathalie agrees with me. We get indications at night when photos are out of the question.' 
     'Are you safe?' 
     Marianne nodded. 'That electrified fence your father had erected tends to deter unwanted visitors.' 
     'I worry about you. I am tucked safely away here while you are right in the firing line.' 
     'I am used to it, cherie. So do you get this dip tonight?' 
     'Only if you come in with me. That sea is cold in February.' 
     
     'I wouldn't dream of letting you go out alone.' 
     'How about sunshine?' 
     'You are not going to the beach in broad daylight. You are too well known.' 
     'How about on the roof?' 
     'Here?' 
     Nicole nodded. 
     'I'll speak to papa. Do you still have that blonde wig I bought you?' 
     'Of course.' 
     'Then tomorrow, I will come down here and exercise in the gym while you go up on the roof in your wig. If someone tries aerial photography, they will think it is me.' 
     Nicole grinned. 'D'accord.' 
     'But don't go getting your bum sunburnt again like you did that time you went skinny-dipping in the Garonne.' 
     'I'll let you rub lotion in for me.' 
     Marianne laughed. 'You are determined to get us a bad reputation, you are.' 
     'Well, it was a good cover story to explain why we spent so much time together.' 
     'True, but I want a feller one day, and guys tend to be wary of supposed ex-lesbians.' 
     Nicole joined in the laughter. 'If only they knew the truth.'

EIGHT

Marianne drove to the deserted beach between St Cyprien and Canet Plage where she parked her father's car alongside the grassy sand dunes. The whole place looked eerie in the pale moonlight. 
     'I was teasing earlier,' said Nicole as she pushed down her denims. 'You don't really have to come in with me.' 
     'Thank goodness for that. I will sit here and keep a watchful eye on you.'
     Nicole pulled off her tee shirt and tossed it onto the back seat. 'Coward.'
     Marianne grinned. 'Too right. That sea looks cold to me.' 
     In her wetsuit, Nicole looked the part as she slipped goggles over her face. 'Back in half an hour. If I'm not, send out the lifeboats.' 
     Marianne kissed her friend. 'Take care, cherie.' 
     Nicole, in fact, was back in less than twenty minutes, shivering and moaning. 'I must be out of my mind. It's freezing out there.' 
     Marianne wrapped a warm towel around her and rubbed her blue skin as Nicole peeled off her wet suit and got dressed in dry clothes. 'Coffee?' 
     'You have some?' 
     Marianne produced the flask her father had filled for her. 'Tada!' 
     'You think of everything.' 
     'I try.' 
     'Thought about how we make the switch?' 
     'Yes, but I have made no decision. Either Phil or Juan will have to stay behind and they both desperately want to go.' 
     'How about the archaeologists or whatever they are?' 
     'Both are men picked by the company. I don't know anything about them.' 
     'Hmm. That makes it awkward.' 
     Marianne turned up the heater in the Renault. 'Feeling better?' 
     'A little,' said Nicole, cupping her hands round her coffee cup. 'Do we have to go straight back?' 
     'We ought to. You are supposed to be dead, remember? And the longer we are out, the more risk there is of you being spotted by someone.' 
     'The mob?' 
     'Not necessarily. But there are still lots of reporters around who could spill the beans to get an exclusive.' 
     Nicole drained her cup. 'Okay, Superbabe. Let's go home and get some sleep.' 
     Marianne grinned. 'I have to go back to your villa and wait for the girls. Dad can tuck you up in bed. He loves to have you as foster-daughter. It reminds him of his action in the war.' 
     She did a U turn and headed back to St Cyprien, then onto the coast road towards Argeles Village. Marianne adjusted the mirror. 'We're being followed.' 
     Nicole turned in her seat but all was dark behind them. 'You sure?' 
     'I caught a glint of light when we passed the gates to that campsite back there.' 
     Nicole peered closely. 'I must be going blind or something.' 
     'I'm going to take a detour through the back streets of Argeles Plage. Tighten your seat belt.' 
     'Why the new town?' 
     'It is well lit. Maybe we will see who is after us.' 
     'Perhaps they are not after us. Maybe they have electrical problems with their car.' 
     'How likely is that?' 
     Nicole smirked. 'Not very likely.' 
     'Hold tight,' said Marianne, turning into a side street leading to the sea front. The town was almost deserted so few people had to leap out of the way as Marianne kept in low gear and roared between bars and souvenir shops. At the end, she slammed on the brakes and slewed round on the loose sand. No vehicle was following them. 
     'Uh-ugh,' said Nicole pointing to the car which drew to a halt fifty metres away at the end of the road running parallel. 
     Marianne sat staring at their pursuer, her engine ticking over quietly. 'Recognise the car?' 
     Nicole shook her head. 'No.' 
     'Mafia? Police? Press?' 
     'Unlikely to be mob, but they definitely seem to be interested in us. Dirty old men, do you think?' 
     Marianne raised one eyebrow. 'We are assuming they are men.' 
     'And dirty.' 
     Marianne laughed. 'And old. Let's give them a run for their money. Keep down while I move closer.' 
     Nicole slid down in the seat as Marianne crept forward towards the other car. There were two people in it, both seemingly men. As she drew across the front, its headlights came on and she heard the engine rev. Slamming her foot down, she swung round in front of it, wishing she was in her Porsche as she accelerated away while the other car tried to turn round. Marianne took a short cut across the grass at the end of town and down the narrow winding lane to Taxo. Zig-zagging round the bends she knew so well, she turned left onto the main road and then up onto the flyover, switching off her lights and pulling in close to the wall. They watched the other car stop at the main road and wait, undecided, for some minutes before turning right towards Elne. 
     'If they know who we are, they would come this way,' remarked Marianne. 'They will know we came from either your villa at Sorède or papa's restaurant at Laroque.' 
     'Rats! You mean we may have just run away from a couple of good guys?' 
     'Better safe than sorry.' 
     The ten-minute journey home was uneventful until they reached the restaurant at Laroque. As the car turned into the small car park, Marianne drew in her breath sharply. The dark green, Spanish-registered Seat Leon was parked next to her Porsche. 
     'It's empty,' noted Nicole as they drew to a standstill on the opposite side. 
     'Stay in the car,' instructed Marianne. 'And keep the doors locked till I check this out.' 
     Nicole nodded in the darkness and then watched her friend walk hesitantly towards her father's restaurant. After peering in the window, she opened the door and walked inside. The darkness outside seemed oppressive as Nicole waited in the car, wondering who these strangers were and whether they were a threat to her plans. The delay seemed endless before Marianne came out again, looking like the bottom had dropped out of her world. 
     She opened the car door. 'You had better come inside. They know.' 
     The two young women entered the restaurant and Marianne led her friend to a table at which two men sat. One was around forty, small and moustached, the other younger and much bigger. Both wore suits. 
     The older man smiled as he stood politely and indicated a chair for Nicole who took it with only a brief glance at the other man. 
     'Who are you?' she asked abruptly across the table. 
     'Amigos,' said the dapper Spaniard. 'And if all goes well, it will remain this way.' 
     'What do you mean?' 
     'I mean that it has come to the knowledge of.... colleagues of ours that you have in your possession certain incriminating evidence.' 
     'Evidence?' said Nicole innocently. 
     'Do not toy with us, Señorita Duchanet. We were not fooled by your attempts to fake your death. We knew the girl they found in the road was not you.' 
     'How did you know?' 
     'That is our little secret, Señorita. But at present, it is a secret which will remain between ourselves and our....colleagues.' 
     'You are not going to expose me?' 
     His lips curled in a lust filled leer. 'My friend and I would love to expose you, my dear, as our colleagues have already done.' 
     'You are not from the mob?' 
     'Not at all. Our colleagues are respectable businessmen and politicians who must preserve their reputations at all costs.' 
     Nicole leant forward. 'They were the men who raped me when I was a child.' 
     He laughed. 'You are very discerning, Señorita. It may have been ten years ago but even then you were very alluring when you were spread naked. I have seen both the pictures and the video tapes...' He leered again; '....very many times.' 
     'Señor, I would then have been fourteen years old.' 
     He leant forward conspiratorially. 'My favourite shot is the one where both my colleagues are inside you at the same time.' He opened a big envelope and placed an enlarged, close-up photograph in front of her. 'Such a pretty little pussy, and such big pricks.' 
     Nicole stood up and swung her fist to hit him but the younger man caught her wrist and held it firmly. He was very strong and the point of the long bladed knife in his other hand pricked the skin of her bare midriff. 
     'Sit down, Señorita. Manuel would love to slit your belly open.' 
     When she obeyed, he placed another photo in front of her, one of her tied, face-down, across a large table. The man who was in the process of entering her from behind was easily distinguishable. Another recognisable French politician was laughing as he spurted his semen onto her face. 'These are good, yes?' 
     Nicole and Marianne sat in silence, wondering where this conversation was leading. Slyly, he took out another photo. 'This was taken an hour ago.'
     Marianne swallowed. It was Nathalie, naked and surrounded by a dozen men. 'She gave us trouble.' The man looked at his watch. 'They will all have used her by now.' 
     The next photo was of Ali, clearly terrified out of her mind, equally naked and tied spread-eagle on a double bed. 'Co-operate with us and the younger one will be spared a similar ordeal.' 
     'What do you want of us?' 
     'All the data you have accumulated for a start. Then you will come and be our guest until after the launch.' 
     'Where?' 
     'Somewhere safe. As soon as you are there, you have my word that Señorita Hart will be released intact.' 
     'And Nathalie?' 
     He nodded. 'If she has survived. I am afraid that my men have insatiable appetites and were being extremely rough with her when we left. I doubt that any of the men would be satisfied with using her only once.' 
     'You are a bastard,' said Marianne quietly. 
     The man grinned. 'How did you know?' 
     She looked straight at him. 'If you have harmed her, I will kill you.' 
     He laughed. 'You could try.' 
     In a flash, she was on her feet with one leg snaking out. There was an odd sound as his head snapped back and he fell backwards, already unconscious. The big man raised his knife arm but Nicole picked up the salad bowl and slammed it into his face, bringing blood from his broken nose and blinding him with the vinaigrette dressing. He staggered to his feet, lashing out blindly but stopped when Rouel placed the barrels of his shotgun against the back of his neck. 'Arret, ou vous êtes mort.' 
     Nicole picked up the photos of the politicians using her. 'If those girls are not back here in one hour, these hit every news agency in Europe.' 
     'You wouldn't dare.' 
     She put her nose an inch from his. 'Try me.' 
     'But it will come out that you are still alive.' 
     'I'll take my chances with that. I would rather make a deal with the mob than you lot of hypocrites.' 
     'We could make it difficult for you. You would never make it to launch day.' 
     'I'll risk it. Get those girls back here now.' 
     He reached inside his coat and produced a mobile phone. He started to speak in Spanish but Marianne snatched the phone from him. 'Remember that my father speaks excellent Spanish.' 
     He looked uncertain for a moment, then took the phone back and continued more carefully. He finally closed the phone. 'They will be here in forty-five minutes.' 
     The man on the floor stirred and groaned. Marianne waited till he was fully aware of his position. 'And I will break a bone of one of you for every time Nathalie has been raped. If she has died, neither of you will leave here alive.' 
     The smaller man swallowed. 'You can't just kill us.' 
     Marianne grinned. 'My father was resistance leader here and has many friends. You will disappear and your "colleagues" will be exposed...' she looked at the incriminating photos; '...again.' 
     'None of you will live to see the launch.' 
     'Don't bank on that, señor. You will find it difficult to fire a gun with crushed fingers.' 
     'No-one will handle the photos. They are too hot.' 
     'Then I will send them to the Mafiosa. They are not so easily intimidated and will probably leave us alone in return.' 
     'The local mob would not be interested.' 
     'I was thinking more in terms of the Red Mafia.' 
     'You wouldn't...' 
     'I most certainly would.' 
     'Señorita deBosvile, you are taking on more than you can handle.' 
     'Perhaps. But you started this and gave us no alternative. At least we now know who the real enemy is.'

NINE

In little over half an hour, a van drew up outside and two figures emerged before it roared off. Nathalie was limping and leaning on Ali who still looked terrified. Marianne helped her friend into a chair. 'You okay?' 
     Nathalie nodded. 
     Marianne looked at Ali. 'Did they touch you?' 
     The girl shook here head. 'Just Naj.' 
     'How many times?' asked Nicole quietly. 
     Nathalie shrugged. 'I lost count.' 
     The big Spaniard began to laugh. Marianne kicked out instinctively and he fell over backwards. She stamped on his hand, hard, and the crunch could clearly be heard. 
     He screamed. She stamped again and this time, the bellow of pain could be heard throughout the village. 
     The little guy started to rise and Nathalie, who was nearest, suddenly lashed out with all her strength. 'Get fucked, asshole.' 
     Nicole laughed and then kicked him between the legs as he started to rise. He groaned and she struck again. He lay trembling on the floor. 
     Marianne looked at her. 'Superbabe, this is war.' 
     Nathalie grinned through her pain. 'Let's screw them all.'

     Marcel Froment did a double take as the two young women walked into his office. 'My god, Nicole.' 
     'It's a long story, boss.' 
     'But the body, the identification.' 
     She ignored him. 'We have to get into orbit.' 
     'What?' 
     'The relay shuttle leaves tomorrow. We have to be on it.' 
     'But that's impossible.' 
     'Not at all. Nicole and I simply replace two of the usual crew.' 
     'How does the shuttle get back down with only one crew member?' 
     'Who's the pilot?' 
     'Captain Chandler.' 
     'Joe is quite capable of getting down on his own.' 
     'And what do you do?' 
     'We remain in orbit till the launch. The engineers could do with some help assembling Lander V.' 
     'But I don't understand why.' 
     Nicole explained. 
     'So what about your friends? Are they not vulnerable?' 
     'Nathalie and Ali have barricaded themselves into my villa and switched on the electric fence. It is the safest place for now.' 
     'How is Nathalie?' 
     'As well as can be expected. They had only raped her a few times.' 
     'My god.' 
     'Don't worry. She is fairly resilient. And right now, she is mad as hell. She has my father's shotgun and will probably shoot anyone who goes within half of a mile of the villa. But she will have suffered for nothing if we don't go through with this.' 
     'Okay, I will see what I can do. So if the two of you go to Marineris, someone will have to be dropped.' 
     'You are happy for us both to go?' 
     'There is no-one better qualified. Phil will have to go as navigator, so Juan will have to stay behind.' 
     'Or one of the scientists.' 
     The director shook his head. 'The company would not allow that. There is too much potential profit at stake.' 
     'I was afraid you would say that. Juan will be upset.' 
     'He will do as he is told.' 
     'I have a suggestion.' 
     'Yes?' 
     'We go up tomorrow and Juan goes up next week in our place. He is too valuable a commodity to waste. He can be our link on Orion.' 
     'Okay, that makes sense. It would help to keep him sweet.' 
     'So do we go up?' 
     He reached for the phone. 'Be at the helipad in two hours. I will personally fly you to Europoort.' 
     Marianne placed her hand on his. 'You could also do us one other favour.' 
     'Yes?' 
     'Get someone you can really trust to keep an eye on Ali and Naj. I think they are okay for the time being but we will be away for over a year.' 
     'You are worried about them, aren't you?' 
     Marianne nodded. 'The bad guys trapped them once, they could do it again. The girls cannot be expected to stay indoors for all that time. They need additional protection.' 
     'Okay, I'll get onto the security team we use at the base. We've known them for ten years or more and they are trustworthy.' 
     She smiled. 'Thanks, boss.' She looked at Nicole. 'Okay, we are ready whenever you are. Let's get into orbit.'


     Few watchers were around as the relatively unimportant supply shuttle prepared for take off at Rotterdam's new launch centre. Listed crew included two young women who were unrecognisable with their tinted visors on their spacesuits. 
     Solid fuel boosters assisted Shuttle Perseus as it blasted from Earth on schedule. One thousand miles above the surface, additional boosters pushed the spacecraft beyond its traditional ceiling. An hour later, it entered geostationary orbit, ten minutes later to rendez-vous with Orion Space Station. 
     Earth was a huge blue disk below them, dotted with green and brown patches and flecked with white. Nicole and Marianne had seen the pictures many times, but the reality was no comparison. 
     They used the week's wait wisely, exercising and practising for every anticipated eventuality. Weightless, they were able to work out ceaselessly and with relentless determination, to be at the peak of efficiency. 
     Shuttle Mercury arrived a week later with the complaining Geordie Phil Thomas and the ever grinning Juan Fernandez. Hugs were difficult while weightless but managed despite the conditions, everyone aware that only twenty-four hours stood between the greeting and the final separation en route to Mars. The intervening time was filled making sure everything was correct and atmospheric mixes at optimum. No-one wanted to sleep. There would be plenty of time for rest later, when the course was committed.

TEN

Only the hiss of compressed air signalled the final separation of units. A brief burn of the main engines forced Lander V out of orbit and they were on their own. The two scientists said very little as they left everything to the flight crew. It was only when their home planet began to visibly recede that it dawned on everyone that they were finally on the way to Mars. 
     'One last message,' came the cheerful voice of Juan Fernandez over the air. 'There is one phrase I never want to hear from you guys.' 
     'And that is...?' asked Marianne. 
     '"Houston, we have a problem."'

     Marianne had little to do with the flying of Lander V. Nicole's fingers moved across the keys of the computer in regular motion, adjusting burns and lateral retros until Phil was satisfied with the trajectory they were taking. Then, it was time to relax. 
     'Okay folks,' she said with authority. 'Let's eat and sleep.' 
     'Won't be a tick,' replied Nicole. 
     Marianne touched her shoulder lightly. 'Now, cherie.' 
     The dark-haired girl looked at her friend sharply for a second then smiled and nodded. 'D'accord.' 
     'You ready for sleep?' Marianne asked the two scientists. 
     'Of course,' said the Belgian Jean Annas. His colleague, David Johnson from Kent agreed. 
     Marianne smiled and dimmed the internal lights. There was no going back.


     The days turned into weeks and the weeks into months as their home planet receded into the rear distance and communication delays increased. The emotions of the crew went through ecstasy, doubt, loneliness, and only the daily reports back to Orion and instrument checks kept them alert and cheerful. A strong relationship developed between the entire crew and Juan Fernandez who relayed the news regularly. 
     There were no mechanical or electrical problems with the craft and only a couple of minor course adjustments were needed to maintain the correct trajectory. Mars, normally a tiny red dot in the sky, gradually grew into a grape, a tangerine and then an orange. 
     The scientists kept out of the hair of the staff and it was Marianne who brought them into the team properly. She did it in the exercise area behind the flight deck. It was little more than fifteen feet in diameter and ten feet deep, like a narrow padded cylinder, where the crew could either relax or keep fit. 
     The three of them developed their own ball game which was part way between English football and American basketball with the window ports on either side as "goals". Marianne unashamedly flirted with them both in her white leotard which contrasted perfectly with her all-over tan. It was risky, she knew, but it did wonders to break down the barriers. The continual contact inevitably led to minor groping which she tolerated in the interests of team unity, but on the one occasion it began to develop towards something more serious, she firmly put them in their place. There were some immediate emotional recriminations which dissipated when she smiled and kissed them both. The sexual harassment was never repeated after that. 
     Phil was not the sporty type but Nicole often joined in, but her cooler image kept their hands at bay. 
     'Guys against gals?' suggested Dave one day. 
     A sly smirk came to Marianne's face as she glanced sideways at Nicole in her white shorts and tee shirt. She knew why the men loved playing with Nicole who had never worn a bra and her outstanding nipples looked seriously ravishing when her thin tee-shirt became soaked with perspiration. Nicole looked at her and nodded before tossing the ball sideways without warning. Marianne's hand punched out and the first goal was scored before either man could move. 'Still want to play?' 
     The mouth of Jean Annas was open in surprise. Dave simply nodded and grinned, realising that they would have their work cut out thrashing these two very fit young women. The game took a lot of skill and strength in weightless conditions but the superior strength of the men was no match for the faster speed of the girls. 
     'Enough,' said Marianne after an hour. 'We have to watch our oxygen usage. The filters can only scrub so much at a time. Same time tomorrow?' 
     'One day, we will win,' said the Kentish man. 
     Marianne laughed. 'You can try.' 
     'Why don't we split up?' suggested Jean, putting his arm round Marianne's slim waist. 'Guy and gal on each team.' 
     In seconds, he was on his back with Marianne astride him, one hand around his throat, the other anchoring them both to the deck. 'Don't ever try and separate us, buddy. You will regret it. Nicole and I stick together, no matter what.' 
     'Okay, okay,' he protested. 'It was only a suggestion.' He suddenly grinned. 'God, you are seriously sexy.' 
     Marianne could feel his erection growing between her legs, rubbing gently against her most sensitive place, and she enjoyed it for a while before grinning back. 'You'd never keep up with me, sunshine.' 
     Nicole was stifling a giggle with difficulty as she watched her friend rise slowly and then somersault towards her. She playfully took hold of the Englishman's hand. 'If you two want to bonk each other to sleep, Dave and I can always make ourselves scarce.' 
     'Not now,' said Marianne firmly as she opened the locker door. 'We have a job to do.' She paused and then turned, the grin back on her face. 'However, on the way home....'

ELEVEN

Lander V approached Deimos on the one hundred and ninety-third day after launch from Orion and the crew checked everything ready for separation. 
     'You gonna manage without us?' Phil asked Nicole as she skilfully ran through the final checks. 
     'Mon ami, you will only be gone a short time.' 
     'Could be a month.' 
     'Get those guys to do their job quickly so that we can be out of here for the first window.' 
     Marianne put her head through the hatch. 'Almost ready. Better phone home, ET.' 
     'Already done, boss. Reply due in forty minutes.' 
     The Captain grinned. 'God, you are so efficient.' 
     Nicole grinned back. 'I try.' 
     'Got your "special" message prepared?' 
     She nodded. 'As soon as I get confirmation that Ali and Naj are still safe.' 
     'Sock it to them, superbabe.' 
     'I will. I have waited a long time for this.' 
     'Okay. Just pressurising the module. Give the batteries a final boost for me.' 
     Nicole flicked switches. 'Roger. Generator on.' 
     There was a slight vibration. 'What was that?' 
     The engineer ran her eyes over the dials and tapped keys. 'No problem showing.' 
     Marianne sighed. 'I'm glad about that. It's a long walk home.' 
     'Everything seems perfect.' 
     'Back in forty.' She disappeared and Phil followed, a faint look of concern on his face. 
     Alone, Nicole instantly set to double-checking everything. Satisfied, she pushed a button. Marianne answered. 'Yep?' 
     'All okay at your end?' 
     'Seems good. You?' 
     'Nothing shows. But it is your decision. We can always swing round and head back.' 
     'Not without doing what we came all this way for.' 
     'Whatever you say.' 
     'You will follow emergency procedures if we do not get back up by the deadline?' 
     Nicole knew that this could mean leaving all the others on Mars and departing alone with all the data they will have uploaded daily. 'If I have to.' 
     'You cannot afford to miss the window or none of us will get back. The mission must come first.' 
     'Okay, boss.' 
     'If I say "go", you go. Right?' 
     'Of course. It is the correct thing to do.' 
     'Checking the guys. Be cool.' 
     Nicole nodded in silence.

     Three quarters of an hour later, reply had come from Earth at the speed of light via Juan Fernandez at Orion with an accompanying message from an excited Ali and Nathalie who had been flown under security escort to Europoort control centre for the occasion. 
     Kisses were exchanged all round and everyone except Nicole slipped through the hatch and it was sealed. 
     'Separation on your command,' came Marianne's voice over the radio and Nicole watched her screen for a few seconds before announcing; 'Thirty seconds.' 
     'Roger. Countdown, please.' 
     'Twenty.' 
     'All ready at this end. Lander module ready.' 
     'Ten seconds.' 
     'Detaching power link.' 
     'Five.' 
     'Four' 
     'Three.' 
     'Two.' 
     'One.' 
     'Separation. Good luck, Lander.' 
     'Thanks, Orbiter. Sleep well.' 
     'Fat chance of that. Keep in touch.' 
     Nicole watched the small module as it fired its retros briefly and began to turn while her own craft locked into a high orbit. In ten minutes, the Lander module had vanished from sight and she felt more alone than she ever done before in all her life.

TWELVE

Marianne watched the digital altimeter winding down as the lander swung round on its parachutes, drifting closer to the huge ravine on their left, a deep gash in the landscape which made the Grand Canyon of Arizona appear a minor earthquake fault, and she could see why early astronomers like Lowell had mistakenly assumed they were canals. Even from two miles high, the relatively straight edges could be seen, carved by unseen forces of nature some time in Mars' distant past. 
     'Lascelle Crater to starboard,' announced Phil. 'Approaching landing area now. Touchdown in five minutes.' 
     'Roger,' came Nicole's voice from on high. 'I have you on radar. You're looking good.' 
     'Firing main engines in three minutes,' said Phil. 
     'On target?' Marianne asked. 
     'Close. We could put down on that ridge ahead.' 
     'Isn't that a little close to the ravine?' 
     'True, but it looks flat and even. If we hit it square, we will be less that a hundred yards from the cliff-top.' 
     'Can't risk it. Pull right and onto that wider spur.' 
     'Okay,' said the navigator. There was no time for a debate. 
     Main engines fired, the craft slowed in descent, twisted right a little and put down gently in the centre of the wide spur of land between the main Marineris Valley and an adjacent depression. 
     As the engine noise died away, the craft gave a sudden lurch and then settled. Phil let out his breath slowly. 'How did you know the surface was so soft?' 
     'I guessed from the look of the erosion and debris in the valley below.' 
     'If we had touched down nearer the edge...' 
     'Phil, we're down. Okay?' 
     'Yes, boss.' 
     'Checks?' 
     'Starting.' 
     Beeps and clicks came from the computer before Phil nodded his approval. 'No obvious problems. Fuel underused, oxygen normal, temperature within limits, resources adequate.' 
     Marianne turned to Jean and Dave. 'How soon do you want to start?' 
     'How long to sunset?' 
     'Three hours.' 
     'Not long enough to wander far, but we could take a quick look outside.' 
     'No problem. But remember that we lose an airlock-full of oxygen every time we open the door.' 
     'We'll be careful. You coming?' 
     Marianne nodded and smiled. 'Of course. I've got the camera.'

     The three of them donned their environment suits and face-masks, checked each others' air supply before testing the integrity of the small airlock. Due to size limitations, it only permitted one person at a time to use it. However, the only other alternative was to depressurise the entire craft and lose the entire atmospheric content. 
     Marianne, as mission commander, was first out, her boots sinking into the loose red sand which stretched as far as the eye could see. Nothing here like the rocks at the original Explorer site many miles away to the south. 
     Even the sky had an orange tinge to it as it reflected the surface. No clouds were visible and the sun was half way from its zenith to the fairly level plain which stretched away in all directions from the canyon itself. A sound behind her made her turn and she faced her companions. 'Welcome to Lascelles Base.' 
     Jean nodded and walked a short distance to the north. 'Sacre Blue, this valley is enormous.' 
     'That's why we can see it from Earth. Almost four hundred kilometres across at its widest point and seven kilometres deep in places.' She smiled. 'But no water, of course.' 
     'There obviously has been. Wind could not alone have accomplished this degree of erosion. And it is so clean cut. It is as if there was a sudden, unexpected downpour which literally tore through here and then.... dried up.' 
     'Is there a natural phenomenon which could do that?' 
     He shook his head. 'None that I am aware of. It is...fantastic.' 
     'Okay, Mike, stand over with him and I'll take your photo with the valley in the background.' 
     The man stood looking at her. 'What did you call me?' 
     'Mike.' 
     'You called me Mike?' 
     'Of course. It is your name.' 
     Both men stared at her in silence. 
     'Mike, or should I say Micheel Ivan Polinski, born 1972 in Latvia. Wife Anna, son Andrei, aged four and a half. Shall I go on?' 
     'Mademoiselle deBosvile, it seems that you know more than is good for you.' 
     'I know that you were substituted for the real David Johnson two years ago when Nicole first threatened to expose the Red Mafia.' 
     'What is all this about?' asked Jean. 
     'Many attempts have been made to prevent my friend reaching a point in time where she would be able to carry out her intentions. The Russian Mafia has been almost successful on several occasions. That is why he is here now.' 
     'I haven't come to harm Mademoiselle Duchanet,' said the Latvian defensively. 
     She smiled. 'I know that.' 
     'You do?' 
     'Of course. You are here to ensure that she actually carries out her plan so that your colleagues back home can take legal action against the perpetrators.' 
     He said nothing. 
     'But..' started Jean. 
     She turned to face him. 'Were you sent to stop her?' 
     'No, I...' 
     'If you have, you are too late. She planned to make the announcement tomorrow but she actually sent it today, as we were descending, to avoid any possible attempts at sabotage.' 
     'I am merely an archaeologist, Marianne.' 
     'I will accept that for now in the absence of further information.' 
     'It is true, then there is only one other person.' 
     'Phil Thomas?' 
     He nodded. 'If it is Phil, then we are already dead. He could launch and leave us at any time and then go and kill your friend in orbit. He could make up any story he wanted to on the way home.' 
     'He could. But he won't.' 
     'How can you be so sure?' 
     She took a small object out of her pocket and held it up for them to see. It was a micro chip. 'It is from the main engine interface. If Phil is the traitor, he will not be able to reach orbit without this.' 
     'Then you don't trust him.' 
     'I trust no-one till we are all safely back at Orion.' 
     'It seems that a great many people have underestimated your abilities, Mademoiselle deBosvile.' 
     She shrugged. 'That happens all the time.' 
     'So what do we do?' Jean asked when they had taken a few photos. 
     'We can erect the base camp for a starter. Can you two pull out the rods while I spread the plastic cover?' 
     Between the three of them, they soon had the inflatable tent erected, an assembly of lightweight alloy tubes covered with a double skin of ultra-violet resistant, translucent material which they proceeded to inflate slightly and then, when certain that it was airtight, to oxygenate enough to allow relatively normal breathing within the assembled dome. It took less than two hours but, by the time they had finished, the tiny sun was on the rim of the horizon. 
     'Okay, we've done all we can for today,' said Marianne. 'Let's get back inside the Lander before it turns seriously cold. We can rig up the rest of the equipment tomorrow.' 
     Mike nodded. 'Thanks for trusting me.' 
     Marianne held his arm as Jean entered the airlock. 'Between us, we need to watch the other two.' 
     'You don't trust them?' 
     'So far from home, I cannot afford to entirely eliminate anyone from suspicion. However, we still need to depend on each other while we are here or none of us will ever see home again.' 
     'So why do you trust me more than them?' 
     'Because if you were trying to stop Nicole from exposing the mob, you would have done it on the way here. You had ample opportunity.' 
     'But not the others.' 
     'Phil has been involved with the running of the trip. However, he could have sabotaged the expedition earlier at, or soon after, launch.' 
     'And Jean?' 
     'A relatively unknown quantity. However, it is not the mob which most concerns me.' 
     'It isn't?' 
     Marianne shook her head and told him briefly about the encounter with the Spaniards at Laroque. 'But it will be too late now. Nicole will have sent her message.' 
     'You trust Nicole?' 
     'With my life.' 
     'The two of you do seem very close.' 
     She nodded. 'Inseparable.' 
     He suddenly laughed. 'I'll bet all hell breaks loose back on Earth when they receive her message.' 
     'Yes, I certainly hope so. The guys who abused her deserve all they get.' She looked around at the maroon sky. 'Let's get inside. People will talk.'

THIRTEEN

Their first night on Mars was cramped in the relatively small space of the lander module, but the closeness kept them warmer. Marianne slept fitfully and was wide awake long before the dim sun lit up the orange sky and the shadows vanished almost abruptly. Before the others woke, she had eaten her hi-protein biscuits and taken her orange juice carton with her to the base camp. 
     Carefully, she marked out where the various items were to be placed before setting up her camera on its lightweight tripod and photographing the valley at five minute intervals as the shadows moved and shortened, noting that there was about a third of its width which permanently remained in almost darkness. Unlike Earth where the brightness of the sun reflected and lessened shadows, here the darkness was almost complete. Perched on the southern lip of the chasm, they would have to descend in that shadow. But with a thinner atmosphere, Mars had higher levels of radiation so this route would make the danger from exposure to deadly ultra violet radiation significantly less. 
     A movement behind her made her turn. 'Admiring the sunrise?' 
     'Just planning, Phil.' 
     'How do you plan to get down? That's some drop.' 
     'Just over a mile deep at this point, I calculate. We'll have to rig up a pulley system of some kind. We could climb down manually, of course, but it would be one hell of a climb back up. With a motorised winch, we would save energy.' 
     'So one of us will always have to stay up top?' 
     'That'll be you. I have had some brief theory training on flying the module but you have had the practice. If anything goes wrong, you can get back up to Orbiter so that you and Nicole can return with the data and samples.' 
     'And leave the rest of you here?' 
     'We are expendable.' 
     'No-one is expendable, Marianne. Especially you.' 
     She smiled. 'Let's get the gear.' 
     By the time they got back to Lander, the scientists were unloading their equipment and stacking it near the entrance to Lascelle Base. It took three hours to get set up and by that time, the sun was high and they retreated to the protection of the shadow of the module to have lunch. It was difficult having to take a deep breath, chew and swallow, and then breathe again, but they soon got used to the idea. No-one wanted to go back inside when there was so many new things to see. With the sun relatively low, the shadows moved continuously and, during mid afternoon, they rigged up the winch system and tossed the huge coil of rope into the darkness. 
     'That's plenty for today,' announced Marianne. 'If we get an early start tomorrow, we should get to Cydonia before lunch. We'll take a lightweight uv-proof tent with us in case we have to stay out in the open.' 
     'How far is it to the site?' asked Jean. 
     'I estimate about five miles.' 
     'We have to walk five miles?' 
     'Yes, but the gravity is less than half of home. It will be like walking two.' 
     'We should have landed in the valley.' 
     Marianne shook her head. 'We have already been through that. The valley floor is an unknown quantity. We can survey it while we are here and, if it is level enough, land the next craft there. However, we might get to Cydonia and find it is a hoax.' 
     'I doubt it.' 
     'Well, let's find out before we jump to any premature conclusions.' 
     'You're the boss.' 
     She winked at him. 'And don't you ever forget it.' 
     'What are we doing tonight?' 
     'I, for one, am sleeping in the base camp. I have had enough of cramped spaces.' 
     'Won't you be cold?' 
     'Not in my box.' The "box" consisted of a closable alloy cylinder lined with a lightweight high insulation material. 
     'Want some company?' offered Jean. 
     'If you like. But remember there is only room for one in each cylinder.' 
     'Damn. And I just thought up a way of keeping warm.' 
     Marianne laughed. 'If you think that I am taking any of my clothing off during a Martian night, think again.' 
     'Okay, point taken. But I'd still like to stay with you.' 
     'Be my guest. There is plenty of room. I think I will go and bed down soon. It is already turning decidedly chilly.' She turned to Mike and Phil. 'See you at sunrise sharp.' 
     The men nodded and headed for the warmth of the Lander module.

     With the lower temperatures and thinner atmosphere, weather was a strange phenomenon. Winds were light during the day and, at night, conspicuous by their absence. Also, with very little in the way of clouds, temperatures plummeted deep into the minus seventies during the still Martian night. Anyone in the open would not survive one such night. 
     At sunrise, Marianne and Jean were already up and testing the winch gear in preparation for the descent to the valley floor. Even though it way daylight, it was freezing cold in the shadow as Marianne abseiled down the crumbling slope, taking half an hour to reach the valley floor. She had explored the area all around before the archaeologists joined her at a more sedate pace. 
     'My god, it looked so smooth from up there,' said Mike, indicating the uneven valley floor. 
     'It seems I owe you an apology,' added Jean. 'We'd have crippled the module if we had tried to land it here. How did you know it would be this rough?' 
     'I didn't. I just wasn't taking any chances.' 
     'Which way to Cydonia?' 
     Marianne pointed. 'We go that-away.' 
     It took over two hours due to the rough terrain but as they got close and saw the structure, their excitement grew. 
     'That is not a natural formation,' said Mike. 
     'It is so big,' added Jean. 'If there is no entrance way at this level, we will have one hell of a climb to get to the rim.' 
     'The sides look perfectly smooth,' observed Marianne. 'We'd never manage it.' 
     'We have ropes in the pack.' 
     'Yes, but one of us would have to climb up first and I am no mountaineer.' 
     Neither man was either, so they circled the base of the structure and, although only just over three miles round, it took longer than the walk from Lascelles Base. It was perfectly circular but the wall, if that's what it was, came to point on one side. There were no markings of any kind. Marianne panned over the whole area with her digital video camera from a distance. She pressed her intercom button. 'You getting these pictures, Phil?' 
     'I sure am,' came the reply. 'It seems a weird place.' 
     'It is definitely not a natural feature,' she agreed. 'The guys don't know what to make of it.' 
     'Can you get inside?' 
     'We can't find any doors or windows.' 
     'That could make it difficult.' 
     'I am not an expert on Martian structures but it looks as though the people who used it must have entered from above.' 
     She heard him laugh. 'Marianne, no-one is an expert on Martian structures. Everything that has ever been said or written about them is pure guesswork. Your guess is as good as anyone else's.' 
     'You are probably right. When we have finished this bit, beam them up to Marianne so that she can start transmitting back to Orion.' 
     'Okay, will do.' 
     'We'll bring back the disks of the stills with us and we can send them overnight.' 
     'By courier?' 
     'Ha ha ha, no. We forgot the motor cycle.' 
     'You coming back tonight?' 
     'No, I think we'll make camp here and return either tomorrow or the next day.' 
     'Hoping to catch the early window?' 
     'If we can't get inside, yes. There is no point in hanging about if there is nothing to see.' 
     'And if you do find a way in?' 
     'Then we'll play it by ear. We haven't come all this way just to take a handful of photos.' 
     'Okay, boss. Look after yourself.' 
     'Send Nicole my love.' 
     'Will do.' 
     'Out for now. I'll let you know progress before nightfall.' 
     She looked at the midday sky. They had several hours but had to allow at least one of them for erecting the tent and unpacking sleeping bags, etc. They would also need to eat in plenty of time to be bedded down before the deep freeze. She walked around for a while and found a level spot where she laid out the equipment ready for quick assembly. It was slightly raised from the valley floor so she sat down and watched the men at work, scratching, scraping and examining, popping the odd rock sample into a sterile bag. 
     'It is most odd,' said Jean later. 'This is undoubtedly a building of some kind but there is not a single artifact or sign of life, past or present.' 
     'Could it be a tomb?' she asked, remembering the pyramids. 
     'It is certainly one possibility,' said Mike. 'But rummage around the base of any pyramid and you will find some signs of past life. A coin, piece of pottery, something. Here, there is nothing.' 
     'Buried, maybe?' 
     'We considered that, but there is little deposit here. On the contrary, the whole site has been eroded.' 
     'By wind?' 
     He shook his head. 'Water. You can clearly see the swirl marks. In fact, look closely and you will see that this resembles some Earth castles which had moats. This structure had, in effect, a kind of moat part way around it. My best guess is that this was a defensive structure of some kind.' 
     'Period?' 
     He shrugged. 
     'Relative to Earth, I mean. Are we talking ancient, medieval or modern?' 
     'No comparison can be made in those terms. If the only way in or out is by air, and that is the conclusion we are coming to, then we are talking modern. But the whole concept of a defensive structure of this kind is more allied to the European Middle Ages.' 
     'So you are saying that we cannot think of Martian history in any kind of comparison to our own heritage.' 
     He nodded. 'There is no damage to the structure, so that would indicate the absence of artillery of any kind.' 
     'Bows and arrows? Spears?' 
     Jean shook his head. 'Unlikely. No slit windows or castelations.' 
     'Then defensive against whom or what?' 
     'Animals, perhaps. Or simply the elements. There is not one indication that Martian society had wars or disagreements, whereas Earth culture is full of weaponry. The oldest artifacts on our on planet are things like arrow heads. I have seen no sign of flints here, nor the means for smelting metals.' 
     'So what are your first indications?' 
     'Simply that Martians never existed.' 
     'But you both agreed that this was of intelligent design.' 
     'True, but not necessarily by inhabitants of this planet.' 
     'You mean it could have been a kind of staging post en route to somewhere else?' 
     'That is the most likely explanation at this time. However, that opinion may change when we get inside.' 
     'If we get inside.' 
     He looked straight at her. 'We simply have to get inside somehow.' 
     Marianne looked thoughtful for a few moments as they sat in silence. Then, she touched her communicator. 'Phil, how much fuel would it take to bring Lander here?' 
     'Into the valley?' 
     'No, onto the structure itself.' 
     'On top of it? About half of what we have, fully laden.' 
     'But what if you unloaded everything non-essential at the Base Camp and flew it here without us in it?' 
     'That would help. About a third, in that case. I won't have to reach escape velocity.' 
     'Could you fly and land it here yourself?' 
     'Piece of cake.' 
     'Okay, get cracking. I still want to catch the first return window if we can.' 
     'Roger, boss.' 
     She turned to the archaeologists. 'We have a couple more hours of daylight so I'll set up camp if you want to carry on for a bit.' 
     Jean nodded. 'Right.' 
     Marianne skillfully assembled a three-man insulated tent and laid out sleeping bags and other necessary equipment to protect them from the icy Martian night. 
     As the sun dipped over the rim of the canyon, they were climbing inside. The radio bleeped. 'Lander to away party.' 
     'Marianne here.' 
     'I have the data and co-ordinates.' 
     'Good work, Phil. Have a night's rest but leave early in the morning while the sun is low.' 
     'Why?' 
     'Because the shadows will be sharper and you will see land features more distinctly.' 
     'Okay, boss.' 
     'D'accord. Bonne nuit et dormez bien.'

FOURTEEN

Morning came with its usual suddenness and, with it, Lander V, hovering for a moment before settling gracefully on top of the structure amid voluminous clouds of red dust. 
     Sound was distorted on Mars due to a lower atmospheric pressure and differing mix of gasses, but the whining soon died away as the engines were cut. Minutes later, ropes snaked down the side of the structure and the men made them fast while Marianne stowed their used night gear in her rucksack. It took an hour for the trio to be winched up the smooth stonework till they all stood together on the rim which was several hundred metres wide. The central hole looked bottomless. 
     'Perhaps it leads to the centre of the planet,' Phil suggested. 
     Marianne grimaced. 'How likely is that?' 
     'Well the planet has less internal activity,' said Jean. 'Anything is possible.' 
     'How do we find out?' 
     'Not by going down, that's for sure. Our ropes are not long enough and the sides are vertical.' 
     Mike shone a power lamp down inside. Nothing could be seen. 'We could fly down.' 
     Phil shook his head. 'There is not enough fuel. We didn't come prepared for this.' 
     Marianne sat down on the step of Lander. 'Let's not rush into anything. We have a further forty eight hours here.' 
     'We could use the second window,' suggested Jean. 
     'Not any more,' said Phil. 'We eliminated that option by moving Lander.'
     'Why?' 
     'Because the engines use oxygen,' said Marianne. 'In one minute, the vertical lift motor uses the same amount of oxygen that we breath in a week. And it is wasted, non-recyclable.' 
     'Then we have to return the day after tomorrow?' 
     She nodded. 'We have no choice.' 
     'Then why did we move Lander?' 
     'If we hadn't done so, you two would still be down below, scratching around in the dust and finding nothing. At least we now know what we are up against.' 
     'Okay, so what do we do?' 
     'You are the archaeologists. I am only your minder. What do you suggest?' 
     'We need to get inside.' 
     'If there is an inside to get into.' 
     'Why else would they have built it?' 
     'Are there any markings on the top?' 
     'We don't know yet.' 
     'So why not start there? Let's split into two parties and go in opposite directions. Mike, you come with me. We'll go clockwise. Phil and Jean, you go anticlockwise and we'll meet round near the point. If you find anything, yell.' 
     Jean nodded. 'That makes sense.' 
     Marianne smiled. Let's get to it, folks. We are running out of time.' 
     They all left footprints in the red dust as they set out around the rim. They knew they should be on their hands and knees with soft brushes but there was no time for that. They would have to rely on seeing some larger markings or evidence. They saw nothing till they all reached the point. Jean was brushing away the dust layers. 'It is definitely a regular depression of some kind.' 
     'Writing?' suggested Phil. 
     Mike shook his head. 'It looks like there has been some machinery here.' 
     Marianne looked over the edge. 'A sacrificial site?' 
     'You have been watching too many Inca movies.' 
     'Got any better ideas?' 
     He grimaced. 'I'm afraid not.' 
     Phil pointed down. 'Look at those lines.' 
     They all looked over the edge at the valley bottom a hundred feet below. For some reason unseen from ground level, seven lines ran, perfectly evenly, fan-shaped, away from the bottom of the ninety-degree pointed end of the structure, the part furthest away from the cliff face. 
     'Time lines?' Mike suggested, remembering Carnac in Brittany. 
     'They go in the wrong direction,' said Jean. 'These point north. No relationship to the sun.' 
     'What about the moon?' 
     'Which one? Phobos or Deimos?' 
     'Either.' 
     'Unlikely. They are both too small to be seen from here with the naked eye. But we won't rule anything out until we have eliminated all the alternatives.' 
     'Are there any other markings?' 
     Jean was on his knees, removing more dust. 'These indentations up here seem to correspond with those lines down there.' 
     'Could that be important?' 
     'It might mean they had a sundial or instrumentation of some kind up here and, for some unknown reason, those lines were important to them.' 
     'Navigation?' 
     He shook his head. 'Unlikely. They are not deep enough to be visible from orbit, or even from much higher from here. No, we must assume they have some religious significance.' 
     'Or art?' suggested Phil. 
     Mike laughed. 'Some art. They go right across the valley which makes them anything up to a hundred miles long.' 
     'Are there just these few?' 
     'Why don't you keep looking while we get on with examining these markings up here?' 
     Phil shrugged. 'No problem.' 
     'I'll go with you,' said Marianne. 'I feel like a spare prick at an orgy here.' 
     The navigator laughed. 'A description you could never fit.' 
     She walked a few paces away and filmed the scientists scraping away on the ground before slowly panning across and zooming up the full length of the ground markings. She nodded and they walked further away and did the same. Then, she switched off the video camera. 'They may look clearer as the shadows lengthen later in the day.' 
     'Do you think we'll find much more?' 
     'I really don't know. If we do, we will need some time to photograph them. Then we'll need most of tomorrow to collect rock and dust samples.' 
     'Do we have to go back to Lascelles Base?' 
     She shook her head. 'Insufficient fuel. We have to lift off from here. At least we leave something for the next team.' 
     He laughed. 'A tent and a power winch?' 
     'It will be something less for them to carry. Lander VI can bring some transport. It will cut down on travel time.' 
     'It will have to be good with this terrain.' 
     'Unless it is tracked, I guess we may have to restrict its use to plateau work. A wheeled vehicle would be impossible down there.' 
     They sat on the edge and surveyed the scene below. Phil pointed. 'There has definitely been water here.' 
     'It's still there,' she said. 
     'What?' 
     'It's a few metres below the surface, but it is still there.' 
     'How do you know?' 
     'Call it female intuition.' 
     'Could we tap it?' 
     'Of course. The eventual plan is to plant a forest here.' 
     'A forest?' 
     She nodded. 'We will build a huge bubble to conserve the oxygen initially. Big leafed deciduous would thrive in a giant greenhouse here.' 
     'Is there enough nourishment in the soil?' 
     'So they say. Don't ask me, I'm only a minder.' 
     Phil laughed. 'You are a lot more than that, Marianne.' 
     They looked across the rim to where the archaeologists were working. She suddenly jumped to her feet and then dropped to her knees at the opposite side, rolling onto her tummy and looking over the edge of the deep hole. 'Can you find me a rock? I want to drop it down here. If you hang onto my legs and I lean over, I will hear it strike bottom.' 
     Phil looked around. 'Can't see any loose rocks here, just dust.' 
     'Then chip a bit off the main structure.' 
     He seemed horrified. 'That could be seen as sacrilege by our mates over there.' 
     She grinned. 'All in the interests of science.' 
     He sat down and, with the hilt of his heavy knife, began to strike the building. After a while, he stopped and frowned. 'I don't seem to be able to make any impression.' 
     'I only want a small piece,' she laughed. 
     'But it is rock hard.' He grimaced. 'If you'll pardon the pun.' 
     'Hard?' 
     'It is not sandstone like the rest of the planet.' 
     'Then what is it?' 
     'More like granite.' 
     'Granite?' 
     'Certainly igneous.' He scouted around, looking for cracks. 'And I'll tell you something else.' 
     'What?' 
     'It seems to be all in one piece.' 
     She laughed out loud. 'That's impossible.' 
     'We thought that about Stonehenge. Granite blocks moved from Wales and erected on a sedimentary plain.' 
     'Well, I have news for you, sunshine. You may not have noticed, but this place is just a wee bit bigger than Stonehenge.' 
     'How heavy?' 
     'Good grief, I don't know. Millions of tonnes, I reckon.' 
     'Billions, if it is solid.' 
     'You still think it is?' 
     'Well, we haven't found an opening of any kind.' 
     'So we have this huge building, if that's what we can be permitted to call it, with no way in or out?' Marianne sat cross-legged, deep in thought. 'Let's sum up what we know about it.' 
     'Okay,' said Phil, joining her. 'We have a dirty great hole a mile in diameter surrounded by a ledge a hundred metres or so wide.' 
     'Right. With internal sides perpendicular and outside sides sloping at, what would you say, thirty degrees from vertical?' 
     He nodded. 'The structure is also circular, but coming to a point at the edge furthest from the side of the canyon. Ninety degrees?' 
     Marianne sighed. 'It all seems too perfect to be accidental.' 
     'Height? A hundred feet or more at the pointed end, about half of that at the cliff end.' 
     'About that. Sandstone all around a massive granite outcrop.' 
     'So how was it made?' 
     'On site, it had to be. No-one could move a thing of this size and weight.' 
     Phil looked thoughtful for a moment. 'Seems that way at first conclusion. So where is the debris?' 
     'Debris?' 
     'Assuming that there is granite below the sandy surface, and this would indicate an vulcan-active planet at sometime, then to carve this would produce hundreds of tonnes of chippings. Did you see any below?' 
     Marianne shook her head. 'None, just shale.' 
     'Shale?' 
     'The main difference between sandstone and shale is the way it was laid. Sandstone forms as sediment at the bottom of oceans, becomes compacted by the sheer mass of the water, and then dries hard over the millennia.' 
     'And shale?' 
     'Much the same but stratified.' 
     'In layers?' 
     She nodded. 'Generally the same sediments but laid in tidal areas, thus forming strata. It is usually less solid. Structures built on it often have to be piled.' 
     'And it is shale down below?' 
     She nodded again. 'That's what Jean said. Sandstone on top of the plateau, shale in the valley bottom.' 
     'Mars had tides?' 
     'The stratification would suggest that.' 
     'But that is impossible. Deimos is only twelve kilometres across and twenty thousand kilometres away.' 
     'And Phobos?' 
     'Phobos has a lower orbit but is still only twenty-two kilometres across. Neither moon has enough gravity to produce tides of the scale needed to produce this kind of geology.' 
     'Possible explanation?' 
     'Perhaps one or both of the moons were once larger. Maybe there was a third moon...' 
     'Unlikely. Could the moons have been one at some stage?' 
     He shook his head. 'The evidence does not suggest that. Deimos is almost certainly a natural satellite. Phobos was possibly acquired at a later date. The geology is vastly different.' 
     'Okay, so something else caused the tides.' 
     'Not necessarily tides. Perhaps simply variations in flow rate. If these variations were substantial enough, that could cause the shale to develop.' 
     'A canyon of this depth would suggest a lot of water.' 
     'Liquid,' he corrected. 'We don't know that it was water as we know it.' 
     'So where did it go?' 
     'Originally, westwards. There is a huge drainage area at that end of the valley. It covers literally thousands of square miles. The liquid ran down Marineris and soaked into the surface. It happens in several places on Earth.' 
     'All this would suggest rainfall cycles.' 
     'True, but not now. The climate must have changed significantly.' 
     'Gradually? Over a long period?' 
     'We once thought so. But more recent observations suggest a sudden cessation of rainfall.' 
     'Causes?' 
     'The most recent theory suggests that a comet, or similar, passed close by and sucked off much of the atmosphere.' 
     Marianne nodded. 'That would certainly affect the climate. And, I suppose, kill off any life that was here.' 
     'That is the theory.' 
     She looked up at the sun. 'We have another three hours or so. We still need to find a rock to drop into this hole.' 
     Phil pointed towards Lander. 'There is a narrow ledge on that side. I saw it just before I landed. One of us could winch down there and be back up in half an hour or so.' 
     She jumped to her feet. 'Lead on Macduff.' 
     For exercise, they jogged gently round the lip to the module and dragged out fresh ropes, tossing them over the edge. 
     'I see what you mean about the ledge,' Marianne noted as she peered over the rim. 'It is narrow but obviously served some purpose.' 
     'Are you going down alone?' 
     'I'd better. If Jean and Mike return and find us both gone, they may worry.' 
     'It's a shame we don't have another radio.' 
     Marianne shrugged as she looped the harness between her legs. 'It was never anticipated that we would be separated from them. I'll keep the mobile with me and you can listen in on Lander. The microphone lead should reach out to here.' 
     Phil watched her attach the rope. 'Be careful, Marianne.' 
     She laughed aloud. 'You care about me?' 
     'You bet the hell I do.' He grinned. 'But don't tell my misses.' 
     She finished rigging and then kissed his cheek. 'Hold the fort for me, lover boy.' Suddenly, she was over the edge and gone from sight. 
     He looked over the rim and watched her become smaller as she bounced down the slope, correcting for the Martian gravity. 
     'I'm at the bottom,' came the voice over the radio. 'The ledge is around six feet wide and goes part way around, starting at valley floor level.' 
     Phil pulled out the mic. 'Like a ramp?' 
     'Could be.' 
     'Where does it end?' 
     'Half way along the flat side. I must be exactly opposite to the pointed end where the lads are working.' 
     'Can you see anything?' 
     'Nothing obvious but...' 
     'What is it?' 
     'I've found something.' 
     'Marianne, what is it?' 
     There was no reply.


FIFTEEN

Jean and Mike returned an hour later as the sun was noticeably lower in the sky. 'Where is Marianne?' 
     'I don't know exactly,' replied Phil. He pointed. 'She went down there.' 
     'Alone?' 
     'Of course. One of us had to stay here to keep in touch with you.' 
     'What is she doing?' 
     'I don't know. We lost contact.' 
     Jean was dumbfounded. 'Then why are we standing here?' 
     'Because those were my orders.' 
     'But surely....' 
     'Out here, we follow instructions. Marianne told me to stay put.' 
     'But what if she is in trouble?' 
     'Such as?' 
     'I don't know. Perhaps she fell and broke her leg.' 
     'She has the radio. She would have been in touch.' 
     'Aren't you going to do anything?' 
     'Like what?' 
     'Go down and find out what has happened.' 
     'And if I get injured, how will we get out of here? Can you fly Lander?' 
     Both archaeologists shook their heads. 
     'The mission comes first. Marianne knows that. It was her who said it.' 
     Mike grabbed the spare rope. 'Then I will go down.' 
     'You are not trained for this.' 
     'Don't you believe it, comrade. Before the wall came down, I was a KGB officer. This is right up my street.' 
     Phil gaped. 'Does Marianne know that?' 
     He nodded. 'She guessed.' 
     'Okay. Can we help?' 
     The Latvian looked at his watch and then the sky. 'If I am not back in an hour, lock yourselves in the Lander or you will freeze to death.' 
     'And you?' 
     Mike picked up Marianne's survival pack. 'I'll take my chances in the open. If Marianne is not under cover soon, she will die for sure.' 
     'And what if neither of you come back?' 
     'Then launch as planned. Lift-off is not until tomorrow afternoon so we should have time to find out what has happened and get her up here.' 
     'We cannot leave you.' 
     'You have to. There is now not enough oxygen for the late window. Two getting back is better than none. And those photos and samples have to go back to Earth for evaluation. Marianne would want that.' 
     'Do we inform Nicole?' 
     Mike shook his head. 'Not yet. Leave it till sunset or until I get back to you on Marianne's radio.' 
     Phil nodded. 'I hope you know what you are doing.' 
     'We have no choice.' 
     'And bring back a couple of rocks.' 
     Mike frowned so Phil told him about Marianne's plan. 
     'I will try and remember.' He clipped on the line. 'See you soon, I hope.' He disappeared over the edge.

     When Mike reached the bottom, he saw Marianne's harness at the end of the rope. Next to it, there were scuff marks in the dust. He looked around. From his position, the ramp sloped down the the valley bottom. The other end ended abruptly. Beside it, there was a door. 
     At least, it looked like a door. But it was only five feet high. Something like tyre tracks could be seen in the film of red dust going into it. 
     'Marianne,' he called and his voice seemed to fall flat, without the echo he had anticipated. There was, of course, no answer. 
     Inside, it was dark. Outside, the light was diminishing. Soon, it would be very, very cold. He took a step inside and called out again. Silence! 
     He took out his torch and examined the area round to doorway. No sign of a door catch or even a light switch. 
     'Oh well,' he said to himself. 'Here goes nothing.' 
     The passage ahead seemed to soak up the light and never could he see more than a few paces in front of him. But the floor and walls were even, though he had to stoop because of the restricted height. In a few moments, he stepped forward into a huge corridor, twenty feet tall and almost as wide. It seemed to run in both directions around the interior of the structure. 
     Mike mentally tossed a coin as he slipped the pack from his shoulders, realising that the temperature was considerably warmer inside the structure. Also, it seemed, the atmospheric pressure was higher, however unlikely that was in theory. 
     As he started walking left, he was reminded of a game that his younger brother once played on his hand-held computer. Something called "Tomb Raider," and he wondered what would leap out at him. 
     Nothing did, and he had walked for two minutes before he realised that it was getting brighter. He could see where he was going without the torch. He had gone for a further ten minutes when he heard the scream - long, drawn out, from someone in sheer agony.

SIXTEEN

He ran towards the source of the sound and discovered a side room on the inside of the corridor. It was in darkness but there was an aperture on the far side, closely resembling a window. 
     The area beyond was well lit but he stumbled on something on the floor. He stopped and held it up. It was Marianne's environment suit. A few paces further, and he found her flight suit. Next to it was her white leotard. 
     'Marianne,' he shouted and got a moan back in reply. He ran to the window. 
     Beyond it was the hole, a mile in diameter. But just beyond the aperture, couple of metres away from him, hung a figure from ropes around her wrists. It was Marianne and she was completely naked. 
     As he watched, a stream of gas, similar to steam, spurted out of a nozzle in the wall onto her bare skin. The scream came again as her body jerked and convulsed at the end of her rope. 
     God, he thought, they are burning her. 
     He looked around but could see no-one or nothing significant. How Marianne got to her present situation, he could not tell. As he looked at her again, her eyes were open, looking at him. 
     'Mike,' her lips said almost soundlessly. 
     'Hold on, I'll get you out of here,' he said without the faintest idea how he was going to do it, realising that she was, in effect, inside the mile-wide bottomless hole central to the structure. 
     'No,' she called. 
     He turned to face her and saw that she was shivering. Whatever was being sprayed over her was not hot at all, it was ice cold. 
     'What do you want me to do?' 
     'Have you got a gun?' 
     He hesitated. How did she know? He nodded, taking out his Tokarev. 
     She looked him straight in the eyes. 'Shoot me.' 
     He looked at his gun then back to her six feet away. He could not miss. 'But...' 
     'Mike, this is an order. Shoot me. Kill me.' The shivering was increasing. 'And p-p-p-please do it now.' 
     Her body looked white in the limited light, her breasts wobbling tantalisingly, her nipples hard and erect. In other circumstances.... 
     'Wait,' he said. 
     'Mike, it hurts. It really hurts.' 
     He held up the gun in two hands, aiming at her chest, midway between those lovely breasts. It was not the first time he had seen her naked. Neither Marianne nor Nicole had deliberately flaunted themselves at the men during the flight but neither had they acted prudish. 
     He took off the safety catch. The bullets were soft-nosed, split at the tip. One would be enough to rip her heart to shreds. Death would be instantaneous. 
     Raising his arm, he aimed at the rope. One would also be enough to cut the rope. He hesitated. But where would she fall to? 
     A jet of gas erupted again and the scream was terrible, ending in a gurgle as she passed out. He still could see no sign of any other person or persons. Who was doing this to her? And why? 
     Going to the pack, he undid the straps. Fixed together, they were three metres in length. He made a loop at one end. He was not much of a cowboy and he was lassoing upwards, without the aid of gravity, but he eventually managed to get the loop round her feet, jerking it tight around her ankles, fixing the other end around his own waist. 
     He held his breath. He only had one shot at this. Taking careful aim, he fired and then dropped the gun, holding the strap with both hands. The rope parted and her body fell but he had to lean right out and swing his arms to prevent her slamming into the wall of the hole. Gradually, he hauled her limp form up and was careful not to damage her soft skin as he eased her over the cill of the window and into his arms. 
     She was icy cold and he didn't bother with the leotard but unceremoniously thrust her limbs into her flight suit, zipping it up as fast as he could, thereafter stuffing her into her sleeping bag. Kneeling beside her, he held her tight as the trembling and shivering dissipated and she fell into a deep sleep. 
     He kept the gun handy but no-one disturbed them in spite of the fact that his shot had echoed round the whole building. He then thought of the others topside who would also have heard it and would be wondering what had happened. Leaving her for a moment, he poked around inside her pack till he found the radio. 'Phil, are you there?' 
     There was no reply. Perhaps the structure suppressed radio signals. The residual radiation locked into granite sometimes did that. He went over to the window and looked up. He could see the sky, almost back now, the first stars becoming visible. The navigator and his own colleague would be inside Lander by now. He held the radio out over the hole. 'Phil, can you hear me?' A distorted babble was the reply. Incoherent speech. 
     'If you can hear me, I have found Marianne. She is safe and we will find a way out of here in the morning.' 
     There was no indication that he had been heard. It was turning cold but not as cold as it would have been on the surface. Somehow, the structure absorbed the heat of the day and retained it into the night. 
     He looked at Marianne's wrists by the light of his torch, chafed by the ropes but not permanently damaged. He tucked them back inside the sleeping back and zipped it up to her chin, placing his own sleeping bag under her head. He would not be sleeping tonight. 
     Leaving her for a while, he looked around the room, the hole and the corridor but there was nothing to see. Who had captured her? 
     He remembered the low doorways. Little green men? 
     Whoever it was had fingers and limbs. Marianne did not hang herself and neither did she control the jets of what he assumed was semi-liquid carbon-dioxide. He hoped that she was not permanently damaged in any way. 
     There was nothing to be found. No people, no footprints, no dust (he suddenly realised). Everything inside was spotlessly clean. There was no furniture, no indication that anyone had ever been there. So who had captured Marianne? She was no weakling and knew Akido. It would have taken a dozen little green men to bring her down and there was no obvious sign of violence on her body. If he didn't know better, he would have assumed that she had, of her own free will, stripped herself naked and hung herself from that rope, somehow triggering a terrible form of torture painful enough for her to beg for death to end her agony. 
     The corridor seemed to go on forever but he did not venture far from Marianne and, when he returned, she was still sleeping peacefully. Her disappearance had not raised the retaliation he had expected. He sat in the corner with his knees tucked under his chin to preserve body heat, his gun at the ready.

     They were not disturbed during the night and as daylight eventually funnelled down the shaft, the full story became obvious. Hundreds of ropes hung from a kind of grid across the hole. At the end of each was a body. Some resembled human forms, others totally alien. Some looked reasonably recent, though cold may well have delayed bodily deterioration, others seemed to have been there a while. All were naked and had, if he read the facial expressions correctly, died in unbearable agony. Then, he noticed something else. They all appeared to be female and looked as if they had been disembowelled. He hoped that this final abuse had taken place after their death. He swallowed as he fought back an image of the naked Marianne screaming as her lovely belly was being slowly slit open. 
     This was no temple, he thought. It was a experimental clinic similar to those developed by the Nazis as they had tried to develop a master race. But where were the perpetrators of this intercosmic abuse? And were they native Martians or visitors? 
     The lack of interruption both reassured and worried him at the same time. Marianne stirred and he was beside her in flash. 'You okay?' 
     She smiled. 'You disobeyed a direct order.' 
     'Are you unhappy about that?' 
     'Yes. And no.' 
     'Who did it?' 
     'I don't know.' 
     'Did you see anything at all?' 
     She shook her head. 'Nothing. The door opened and an invisible force dragged me inside. Didn't you experience it?' 
     'No, they only seem to be interested in the female of the species.' He explained his reasons but made sure she did not see the evidence. 
     'More deadly,' she said. 
     'What?' 
     'The female of the species is more deadly than the male. We are either looking for someone whose wife or girl friend has seriously pissed him off or...' 
     'Or?' 
     'Someone trying to systematically eliminate every other race.' 
     'By killing the women?' 
     She smiled. 'What surer way is there?'

SEVENTEEN

In spite of Mike's attempts to keep her from the ordeal of seeing so many of her gender in the hole, she stared at them for a long time. 
     'Are you a really good shot?' she eventually asked as she zipped up her environment suit. 
     'They are all dead,' he said. 
     'Can you shoot one more rope?' 
     'If I have to. Why?' 
     'To see what I might have fallen into if you had not held me so tightly.' 
     'Okay. Which one?' 
     'The easiest.' 
     He took aim and fired. The rope parted and the body of a young woman who looked little more than a child fell out of sight. Marianne listened before turning and smiling. 
     'Water,' she said. 
     'What?' 
     'This is like a giant well with water at the bottom.' 
     'That solves one mystery.' 
     'It does. Let's get out of here.' 
     'How?' 
     'Back the way we came, in the absence of an alternative.' 
     Much to their surprise, the outer door was still open and they literally ran out into the bright red sunshine. After re-establishing contact with above, they were winched up and they all gathered around Lander to exchange news. 
     Marianne was intrigued to hear the findings of the archaeologists and they were horrified to hear the details of her ordeal. Then it was time to pack samples, take the last few pictures, and prepare for lift-off. 
     'Lander to Orbiter, do you read?' 
     'Orbiter receiving,' came back the voice of Nicole Duchanet. 
     'Your mission completed?' 
     'With success, I understand. And yourselves?' 
     'We are all present and correct,' Marianne replied without giving any further information. 'Lift-off in twenty minutes. Phil is doing final checks here. Keep in touch.' 
     'Will do. Orbiter out.' 
     The scientists finished stowing their samples and the photos locked into a radiation-proof canister while Marianne and Phil prepared Lander. She inserted the chip she had removed but, ten minutes later, Phil took Marianne outside. 'We have a problem.' 
     'That is not what I want to hear,' she replied. 'What kind of a problem? Are we short of oxygen?' 
     He shook his head. 'Not that kind of problem. You remember that clunk just before separation?' 
     'Vaguely.' 
     'Something happened to the main batteries.' 
     'Like what?' 
     'According to the computer, one of the cells is damaged.' 
     'Soooo?' 
     'We will have problems with the vertical lift engine.' 
     'You managed it moving from Lascelles to here.' 
     'But I was lightweight.' 
     'So what do we need to do?' 
     'Easy. We lose some weight.' 
     She thought for a long time. 'So we lose the samples, which is shame when we have come so far to get them.' 
     'I don't think that will be enough.' 
     'Okay, here is what we will do. I will keep the guys busy out here while you talk to Nicole. Get her to run the data through the main computer on Orbiter. If that doesn't help, get her to contact Juan for confirmation. Perhaps there is a margin we have overlooked.' 
     'Okay, boss.' 
     Marianne ate and chatted with the scientists while Phil got on to the orbiting craft. An hour later, he came out looking glum. 'We are almost fifty kilos overweight.' 
     'Fifty kilos? We don't have that many samples. They weigh possibly ten, no more. Can we lose some equipment?' 
     He shook his head. 'I have assumed we are leaving all the ground equipment behind as planned. There is no margin.' 
     'Problem?' asked Mike. 
     She told him. He laughed. 'Fifty kilos is not a lot.' 
     'It is enough to stop Lander gaining escape velocity.' 
     'What do you propose?' 
     'I need to talk to Nicole.' 
     'Okay. I hope you come up with something.' 
     Marianne climbed inside and, in confidence, told her friend the plan. 
     'I cannot do that,' said Nicole. 
     'You must. There is no choice.' 
     'But Marianne...' 
     'Nicole, you will do exactly what I tell you. If you do not, no-one will get home.' 
     'I don't like it,' said Nicole. 'Have you told the others?' 
     'Not yet.' 
     'Bon chance, cherie.'

     Outside, Marianne gathered the men around her. 'Okay, we have solved the problem. Lander will launch as scheduled in ten minutes.' 
     'Without the samples?' asked Phil. 
     'With the samples.' 
     'But I thought we were fifty kilogrammes overweight.' 
     'No problem. In my kit, I weight fifty-five kilos.' 
     'You?' 
     She nodded. 'I am staying behind.' 
     Mike took her arm. 'Let me stay.' 
     'No, you are needed with the information you have. I am expendable.' 
     'No-one is expendable. Remember down below? They only abuse females. If I stay, I will be safe.' 
     'Mike, you disobeyed an order once. You will not do so again.' 
     'But this is different.' 
     'Not at all. Listen, you are an archaeologist trained as a spy by the KGB. We are in neither Egypt nor Russia. This is what I have been trained for. I will get through this.' 
     'Marianne, there is not any way to get anyone back here in under a year. You will not survive the Martian winter.' 
     'If anyone can, I can.' 
     'No-one can.' 
     'In that case, I will use what time I have wisely and collect data. I will transfer as much as I can by radio and store the rest on the computer at base camp.' 
     'Are we taking you there before we leave?' 
     She shook her head. 'You have neither the time nor the fuel. I should walk it to Lascelles by tonight. But if not, I have my tent and survival pack.' 
     'It is a long, lonely trek.' 
     'I will make it.' 
     He took something out of his pocket. 'Can you use this?' 
     She turned the T-33 over in her hands. 'Not well enough to shoot through ropes.' 
     'The best advice is from cowboy movies. Wait till you see the whites of their eyes.' 
     'But what if they have no eyes?' 
     'Then close your own and shoot at the sound.' 
     She nodded. 'That makes sense.' 
     'There are only two slugs missing from this clip and here is a spare one.' He handed her another package. 'Squeeze the trigger slowly. This is the safety catch. Want to try it?' 
     She shook her head and shoved both items into her pockets. 'No time. Get going before I change my mind.' 
     'You mean you might?' 
     'Go. And put the kettle on for my return.' 
     'Have you got everything you need?' 
     'No, but I do not intend going back inside to retrieve my leotard.' 
     'We'll leave you the camera.' 
     'I already have a camera. I will film you taking off and beam it to you by radio before you get out of range.' 
     'Someone will come back for you.' 
     She shook her head. 'No, not someone. Nicole will come back for me.' 
     He leaned forward to kiss her cheek but she moved at the last second and their lips met briefly. 'I'll try and come back with her.' 
     'Are you married?' 
     'Is that a proposal?' 
     'No, it is a suggestion. Marry Nicole and put a smile on her face.' 
     'I might just do that.' 
     'Go, or you will miss the rendez-vous with Orbiter.' 
     Marianne stood back and watched the door close before walking a hundred metres away and setting up her camera. Through the radio, she heard the countdown and then watched Lander rise slowly from the surface, gathering speed until it vanished from sight. She turned off the camera, connected it to the radio and pressed "send". 
     Lander sent back a digital response. 
     She was alone on Mars with who knew what.

EIGHTEEN

Despite what she had said, she did not return to Lascelles Base right away. It was impossible to set up the tent on top of the structure so, instead, she stowed her gear, donned her rucksack, and abseiled down the side of the building, arriving close to the door which still stood open. 
     For some time, she scouted around until she found the right spot, a place where she could safely erect her tent but could still keep her eye on that doorway. She placed the gun on the tent floor beside her and an array of metallic objects on the ground between her tent and the slope from the door. Eventually, she dozed off. 
     She was disturbed just after sunset and her hand was instantly on the gun. There was little light but her eyes were accustomed to the dark. A strange creaking was all around her but nothing touched the metallic objects on the ground. The sound gradually died away but she didn't sleep again. 
     Hours later, light came from behind her and long shadows began to creep across the valley bottom. The creaking began again, but nothing was in sight. Then, she started laughing. All her tensions came out as she lay, convulsed, realising that what she had heard was the contraction and expansion of the rocks around her as they respectively cooled after sunset, and heated up at sunrise. 
     If anyone was around, they would know she was there. But nothing disturbed her. At mid morning, she was tempted to enter the door but the thought of having her belly opened by an alien with a giant can opener deterred her. 
     Instead, she stowed her gear, loaded the pack on her back and, increasing her oxygen flow slightly, strode off at a gentle pace towards Lascelles Base.

     The sun was hot and Marianne sweated profusely inside her environment suit and she was glad to reach the shadow of the south side of the valley. All the way, it felt to her that she was being followed and she stopped several times to survey the land behind her, but there was nothing. No movement, no sound. 
     It was early afternoon before she reached the rope at the foot of the cliff below Lascelles Base. Removing her pack, she lashed it to the end of the rope before resting again and listening for any movement. Nothing. 
     Satisfied, she took out her remote-control unit and started the winch which slowly helped her up the steep slope. It took most part of an hour before she reached the top and drew her pack up after her before also pulling up the ropes behind her for security. 
     Lascelles was quiet and the first thing she did was to switch on the main transmitter. 'Lascelles Base to Orbiter, do you receive? Over.' 
     The reply was almost instantaneous. 'Orbiter receiving, Marianne. Are you okay?' 
     'I am fine. Docking complete and satisfactory?' 
     'Yes. But I have to tell you something. There was a mistake in the figures.' 
     'I know.' 
     'You know? How could you know?' 
     'Because I put the error into the memory.' 
     'You mean you wanted us to leave you behind?' 
     'Affirmative. I need to find out what is happening.' 
     'Good god, Marianne,' came a man's voice. 'You are stranded there for a year.' 
     'I am aware of that, Phil. Have a safe journey home.' 
     'Mike told us about what happened inside the structure. You cannot fight this thing alone.' 
     'No, but I can find out what it is.' 
     'Marianne, for heaven's sake....' 
     'See you next year,' she said abruptly. 'Lascelles Base out.' 
     She flicked up the switch and the light went out. It was late in the afternoon and she spent the rest of the day cataloguing her stores. She made out a list of rations and proportioned them accordingly, she checked the water recycler, the air scrubbers, oxygen quantity, battery levels. There was still a trickle coming in from the solar panels but the amount of charge per day would deteriorate over the next few Martian months. She would have to be careful and not send too many long distance messages until springtime. 
     Pressurising the main area, she then took off her environment suit and then her flight overalls. Naked, she stood in front of the mirror and examined the bruises and minor cold burns, smoothing mildly antiseptic lotion into her skin, particularly round her reddened wrists, to prevent infection setting in. Satisfied, she then wrapped herself in foiled wool and shrank into her sleeping bag, placing two items close beside her bed - a reserve oxygen bottle and a 7.8mm automatic.

NINETEEN

Her sleep was undisturbed and she woke to a bright red morning sunrise. For quite some time, she listened to the slight clicking as rocks expanded in the sunshine and it was somehow comforting to her. She showered in cool water to conserve energy but her skin dried quickly as her home warmed up. Remaining naked, she decided that there was one luxury she would allow herself each day. Turning the volume up to full, she switched on her mini CD player and danced naked to the music which blasted out across the Martian surface. Dripping with perspiration, she showered again, this time in cold water, and pulled on her panties, then her one-piece flight suit before eating a light breakfast of hi-protein mash and a little hydrated fruit. Then, she decided, it was time to kick some ass. 
     With padded environment suit and face mask, she was ready to face the world. She packed her rucksack with the items she needed and then set off west along the rim of Valles Marineris. 
     Her pace was steady: slow enough so as not to produce unnecessary perspiration; but swift enough to ensure she reached her destination in time to be out of the sun in the middle of the day when the radiation was at its strongest. 
     It was mid morning when she stopped on the ridge overlooking Cydonia. Dumping her rucksack, she unpacked and assembled her protective tent as quickly as possible and crawled inside, out of the daylight. Instantly, it was noticeably cooler beneath the protective membrane. Carefully, she unpacked all her equipment and laid the items out in a row beside her before lying face down on her sleeping bag, her chin on the backs of her hands, staring down at the structure just a short distance away. 
     In spite of the thinner atmosphere, there was a certain amount of heat haze as she focused her binoculars on the still-open doorway and relaxed to wait, various plans coming and going in her head. 
     'Come on out,' she said to no-one in particular. 'I am waiting for you.' 
     Nobody heard her or, if they did, they ignored her as the sun reached its zenith. Soon, she dozed off in the heat. When she woke, it was mid afternoon and the warmth was already less in the sun. Jumping to her feet, she began to set up her equipment. The CCTV camera, she erected on its tripod, firmly anchoring each leg in the powdery sandstone. For good measure, she hammered in three long steel rods about a foot and tied the legs to it. If the wind came up, the camera would not fall over. 
     She then erected the solar panels to power the transmitter which she linked to the camera. With baited breath, she switched on and tested her set-up. On a small receiver monitor, she could see what the camera saw. Carefully, she zoomed in on the entrance to the structure. 
     Satisfied, she spread out her other items. She knew that the camera and transmitter would go off from lack of power sometime during the night, but she didn't expect to be able to see anything visually in the dark anyway. She set everything to automatically power up at daybreak. 
     It was very quiet and, she noticed, quite late, so she decided to stay at her remote location for that night. It would give her opportunity to ensure that everything was working correctly. Reaching up, she switched the camera to infra-red and waited. No movement came from below her. 
     'Time to stir the hornets' nest,' she said to herself. 
     Picking up the gun in both hands, she eased off the safety catch and aimed at the top of the doorway, still clearly visible despite the diminishing light. It was a long shot but necessary. Slowly, she squeezed the trigger. 
     The jolt in her arms hurt her bruises but she was satisfied to see the brief spark as her bullet glanced off the side of the granite doorway. She was firing into the dark, she knew, but the power of the shot would be enough cause repeated ricochets all along the tunnel and into the main chamber. She didn't particularly want to kill anything at this stage but, if nothing else, she was going to frighten the crap out of anyone inside. 
     There was no evident reaction so she did not try again. If they were there, they would be keeping their heads down if they had a brain cell between them. At least she knew they would get the message. Coming out of that doorway was dangerous, even for little green Martians. 
     Darkness gradually became total over the dull landscape, accompanied by the usual sound of contracting rocks. There was no movement at all so, just about midnight, she aimed the gun again using the infra-red image as a guide. A few seconds later, the Martians knew that she could see in the dark.

     Clicking accompanied the dawn as rocks expanded. Marianne, fresh from a brief sleep, watched the nothing which was happening below her. There had been no visible evidence of any other way in or out of the structure so she stayed and watched. There was also, she thought to herself, no evidence of how the inhabitants came and went except, she remembered, those things that looked vaguely like tyre tracks near the doorway. 
     Through her binoculars, she closely surveyed the ground around the site, looking for evidence of landing or taking off of spacecraft (or flying saucers, she joked to herself) but nothing looked out of the ordinary. 
     By mid afternoon, she was bored so, checking her set-up for the last time, she picked up a couple of items and jogged back to Lascelles Base. As she stripped off, she noticed something odd about her skin. Up to now, it had developed blemishes where exposed to the lower atmospheric pressure, but these blemishes were fading. Although she had been on the surface less than two weeks, her body was already adapting to the change in environmental conditions. She had been told this might happen but warned not to get complacent. A supplement of oxygen would be needed indefinitely whilst out of the pressurised camp. 
     Then, she began to wonder about the structure. Somehow, whilst inside they had been able to compensate for both pressure and gasses. The Martians had deliberately kept her alive when removal of her suit and mask would normally have been terminal in minutes. She had had no difficulty in breathing, just in keeping warm when they had sprayed her with carbon dioxide. Funny, she thought, even the hole had been partially pressurised when it was open at the top. All this suggested some form of force field technology. 
     As she lay in her sleeping bag looking up at the ceiling, she tried to remember what had happened, but it was vague for some reason. She remembered finding the door and stepping inside. She recollected that the radio would not work. She had been able to receive but not transmit. She remembered the tunnel and the corridor. Then, her mind became blank. 
     'Think, Marianne, think,' she said to herself and indistinct flashes came to her. A brief memory came of her undoing her flight suit and stepping out of it. They had not stripped her, she had undressed herself. She vaguely remembered tendrils, hundreds of them, running all over her bare body, nudging and poking her, exploring every feature. 
     She swallowed. 'Oh, my god.' 
     Her hand instinctively went to her belly and then between her legs where she examined herself carefully. 
     'Shit!' she said loudly and vehemently and then curled up in a foetal position, gradually crying herself to sleep.

TWENTY

She woke at daybreak and rose with grim determination. After exercise and shower, she dressed in lightweight kit and strapped on oxygen. Before venturing outside, she ran through the computer's memory to see if there had been movement at Cydonia but it had recognised none, either in the visual spectrum or by infra-red. 
     Carefully, she opened a metal canister and filled her rucksack with packs of a plasticised material along with detonators. Someone was going to pay and pay big. In full combat gear, she abseiled down to the canyon bottom, the automatic in her pocket. 
     Two hours later, she was outside the doorway, gun in hand. Before entering, she clipped the miniature headphones over her ears and switched on her portable CD player, turning the volume up to full. Crouched low, she ran up the passage and into the corridor with rock music hammering in her ears. No-one was going to infiltrate her mind again. 
     The corridor at the end was wide and empty, as before, and she went along it more sedately, checking every alcove and room. Eventually, she located the room where Mike had discovered her. Slowly and carefully, she went to the window and looked into the hole. Much to her surprise, the hole was empty. There was just the criss-cross grid above and traces of rope attached. All the bodies were missing.

     For a long time, she stared into the void, wondering what had happened and why. Eventually, she continued her search to the sound of Led Zeppelin's cult classic "Stairway to Heaven". 
     There were dozens of similar rooms off the corridor but each was as empty as the first. Eventually, she was back at the entrance passage without locating a soul (if that was the right word). So she went back to her "own room" and stared out into the hole as "Stairway" climaxed. 
     The silence was stark as she leant out over the edge and examined the walls around. Then she saw it. There was another aperture above hers. This indicated a floor above. But how could she get up there? 
     She went round again, this time looking upwards more but again, no sign of anything in the light of her torch. Going back to the entrance, she unpacked her rucksack. 'I'll light this bloody place up.' 
     Carefully, she placed the packs of high explosive around the corridor and primed the fuses. She knew that what she had was insufficient to destroy an edifice of such a size. That would take something thermonuclear which she did not possess. But she was going to give someone (or several someones) a serious headache. 
     Before leaving, she checked the setup and switched on the remote control unit. Picking up her pack, she headed for the door. 
     'What are you doing?' came the voice and it took her several seconds to realise that it had come into her mind, not her ears. 
     She turned, remote control in hand, her thumb on the button. There was no-one in sight. 'I am about to blow you to hell.' 
     'Stop!' came the reply which made her slightly dizzy. 
     Before it could control her mind again, she switched her player to another track and "Rock and Roll" thumped into her ears and mind. 'Get, lost, pervert.' 
     She pressed the button, knowing that she had three minutes to clear the passageway with a safe margin. 
     'Please don't,' said the voice more quietly. 
     'Give me one good reason.' Two minutes. Still plenty of time. 
     'I love you.' 
     'What?' 
     'I am sorry if I hurt you. I love you very much.' 
     'You have a bloody strange way of showing it.' 
     'I regret my actions.' One minute. Time was getting tight. In sixty seconds, the plasma blast would be substantial enough to vaporize anything biological within the building. 
     Her finger moved to the "abort" button but did not depress it. 'Who are you?' 
     'A friend.' 
     'Be more specific.' 
     'I am the last Martian.' 
     Marianne laughed. 'Before coming here, I listened to the cult radio classic "Journey into Space." I have heard this conversation before.' 
     Thirty seconds. She would not make it. But did she care? 
     'I have not heard that story.' 
     'He died, Just like you.' 
     'You will die, too.' 
     She sniggered. 'Who gives a damn?' 
     'I do.' 
     Her finger pressed the abort key. 'Why?' 
     'You are different.' 
     'Different to whom?' 
     'The others.' 
     'Which others?' 
     'Everyone.' 
     'How can you speak my language?' 
     'Verbal language is analogue, from the lips. Core brain patterns are digital.' 
     'Are you alive or what?' 
     'Alive?' 
     'Are you a computer?' 
     The alien laughed. 'We dispensed with such things many centuries ago. They took the excitement out of life.' 
     'How old are you then?' 
     'Very old.' 
     'How old?' she persevered. 
     'From eternity.' 
     'Now don't you start this god thing on me. I know better than that.' 
     'I am not a god.' 
     A vision of the abused women came into her head. 'No, you are a devil.' 
     'I meant no harm.' 
     'No harm?' Her voice tone rose. 'No bloody harm? You violated me.' 
     'I did not. I examined you.' 
     'Where I come from, matey, it is called rape. If I am pregnant...' 
     'You are not with child.' 
     'How do you know that so soon?' 
     'You are incompatible.' 
     'What about the others?' 
     'The others?' 
     'Those other women I saw hanging in the chamber.' 
     'That was not my doing.' 
     She laughed lightly. 'Tell that to the fairies.' 
     'The beings who did that are dead.' 
     'Somehow, I kind of expected you to say that.' 
     'I know it is true because I was the one that destroyed them.' 
     'Then why did you hang me up and try to kill me?' 
     'I did nothing of the sort.' 
     'Someone did. It bloody-well hurt.' 
     'I am sorry. That was not my intention.' 
     'Then what was your intention?' 
     'Protecting you.' 
     'Protecting me? From what?' 
     'Radiation.' 
     'I have an environment suit which is doing that quite adequately.' 
     'You will soon not need that suit.' 
     Marianne remembered the changes in her skin. 'How?' 
     'I have adjusted you to live here.' 
     'Adjusted me?' 
     'Unfortunately, you will need the additional atmosphere for a few more days. Then you will be a real Martian.' 
     'You just have to be joking, sunshine. The atmospheric mix here is poison to me and the pressure little more than a tenth of where I come from. Without my suit, I have to live in a pressurised area.' 
     'Not for much longer. You are a fine specimen and are adapting quickly.'
     'A fine specimen?' 
     'A credit to your race. I have observed you all week. You are different to the others who departed.' 
     'What about Nicole?' 
     'I was unable to observe your friend in the spacecraft. Only the male humans who brought you.' 
     'Then you missed out on something very special.' She smiled. 'An even better specimen.' 
     'What are you going to do?' 
     'Talk for a while. But you bug me just once and I am out of here.' She looked down at her thumb on the remote control. 'And so are you.' 
     'I will not try to control you again. It was a mistake.' There was a delay. 'You have a very beautiful body.' 
     'How do you know? We are incompatible, remember?' 
     'Not beauty through my eyes, Marianne. I read the minds of your male colleagues. Every one of them desires to make children with you.' 
     She laughed. 'That is fairly normal on Earth.' 
     'You are from Earth? That is the eight planet?' 
     'No, the third from the sun.' 
     'I was counting from the outside.' 
     'There are only nine planets in the Solar System. You need a lesson in basic arithmetic.' 
     'You need a lesson in astronomy, Marianne. There are ten planets in your Solar System. Your people may never have seen that tenth planet but it is there. I have seen it.' 
     'You keep calling it "my" Solar System. If you are a Martian, it is your Solar System, too.' 
     'I am not originally from here.' 
     'Then where are you from?' 
     'We came from Omicron Cassiopeia.' 
     'We?' 
     'My mate and I.' 
     'Where is your mate?' 
     'She died a hundred years ago.' 
     'This is beginning to sound more like science fiction with every word you say.' 
     'I am sorry.' 
     'I think this is where we part company.' 
     'Please don't go.' 
     'Give me one good reason to stay.' 
     'You are not only the most beautiful woman I have ever met, you are also the most intelligent.' 
     'I have an iq of only 163. You should meet Nicole. Hers is 187.' 
     'That number would make her intelligent?' 
     'Look, matey. If I was Nicole, you would not be having this conversation. She is too bright to have been suckered like me.' 
     'One day, I would like very much to meet your friend.' 
     'She will be back next year.' 
     'That is very good. Then I will have the two most beautiful and intelligent women in the universe.' 
     'Humans are monogamous.' She grinned. 'Most of the time.' 
     'Could you ever forgive me?' 
     'Perhaps. When I get to know you better.' 
     'Would you like to see me?' 
     'Not if it means taking off my clothes.' 
     'That will not be necessary.' 
     'Why did you get rid of the other bodies?' she asked suddenly. 
     'They obviously made you sad. I sensed the revulsion in your colleague.'
     'Who were they? And why had they been abused in that disgusting manner?' 
     'They were samples which my original companions had taken from other planets. They did not have mates of their own so they attempted to have children with them.' 
     'Why did they have to die?' 
     'They were incompatible.' 
     'Like me?' 
     'I did not abuse you, Marianne. When I sensed your incompatibility, I attempted to restore your original condition.' 
     'By hosing me down with ice cold liquid?' 
     'By cleansing you. If I had not done what I did, you would not survive here until your friend returns next year.' 
     'I see. And the...internal...examination?' 
     'Your womb has insufficient capacity to bear my child.' 
     'Your companions didn't let that stop them, did it?' 
     'No. The women they used... burst.' 
     Marianne nodded. That would fit what she saw. 'And you are the only one left?' 
     'That is what I said.' 
     'And you would like me to be your mate?' 
     'Not for children. It would harm you too much. You would die.' 
     'That is very considerate of you. I also prefer not to die.' Her hand went to her belly. 'Especially in the way the others died.' 
     'They suffered a great deal.' 
     'I saw their faces. How long had they carried the children of your colleagues?' 
     'The longest was nine days.' 
     'Nine days? On Earth, women carry their children for nine months. How big were the unborn children?' 
     'Ten of your kilograms.' 
     Marianne gasped. 'The foetuses grew to over twenty pounds in a week?'
     'They were less than half birth size.' 
     'My god, those women must have been in agony. They were being torn apart inside.' 
     'I tried to prevent it.' 
     Marianne stood in silence, her gun in one hand, remote detonator in the other. She was not convinced. 'Are you going to let me go?' 
     'Of course. I promise that I will not harm you. Neither will I let anyone else harm you.' 
     'As long as I become your mate.' 
     'I will respect your choice. But I will protect you, whatever your decision.' 
     'Are you able to return home?' 
     'No. Our craft was destroyed on landing. You will find the remains buried in the sandstone nor far from here.' 
     'Did you build this place?' 
     'No, it was here when we arrived. Unoccupied, of course.' 
     'Then you have never met the real Martians.' 
     'They have been gone, or dead, for many millennia.' 
     'You have no way of contacting your home world?' 
     'No.' 
     'Perhaps we could find a way to send you home.' 
     'I am too old for that. I would rather stay here to die.' 
     'Are you near to the end of your life?' 
     'Yes. I am unlikely to last more than another thousand of your Earth years.' 
     'But I will live no more than sixty years or so.' 
     'Perhaps not on Earth. But here, you would live much longer, possibly as long as myself.' 
     Marianne laughed. 'A thousand years? I am nor sure that I would want to live that long. And Earth is my home.' 
     'You may not be able to return to Earth. 
     'What?' 
     'If you try to return to Earth, you could die.' 
     'What do you know that I do not?' 
     'I have adjusted your metabolism. In a month of so, you will be able to breath normally and run naked in the sunshine.' 
     She laughed again. 'You, my friend, are a dirty old man.' 
     'Please explain the metaphor.' 
     'You would not understand. But what if I wanted to return? Could I be adjusted back?' 
     'Possibly. But it would make me very sad if you decided to leave.' 
     'Would you attempt to stop me?' 
     There was a long pause. 'No. I would do nothing to prevent your departure.' 
     'Thank you.' 
     'I love you.' 
     'Well, I do appreciate the sentiment but I am not sure how I feel at the moment. What do you look like?' 
     'Not like you.' 
     'Would I be revolted by your appearance?' 
     'I would grow on you.' 
     'Not literally, I hope.' 
     'In time, you could come to like me.' 
     'That is possible. I am not racially-prejudiced by nature.' 
     'It would make me very happy if we became friends.' 
     'Only friends?' 
     'Any reproductive activity would be fatal to you.' 
     'The activity or the resultant pregnancy?' 
     'The activity would bring you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. But the pregnancy would result in your death. The foetus would grow larger than your internal capacity.' 
     'Like the others?' 
     'Just like the others.' 
     'I am not comfortable in this darkness. Are you able to venture outside?'
     'Of course. For short periods.' 
     'How short?' 
     'A few hours. I have become accustomed to the darkness.' 
     'I have not and neither will I try. I am an outdoor girl.' 
     'Very well. I will do it for you.' 
     'Is it the heat which makes you uncomfortable?' 
     'Yes. My planet is a cold planet. It is cool in here.' 
     'Then I will leave now and return later when the sun is low.' 
     'And the explosive devices?' 
     'They will remain until I am certain that there is no danger.' 
     'You do not trust me?' 
     'I trust no-one.' She held up the handset. 'This has a range of five miles. I can blow you up from Lascelles Base.' 
     'But you will not.' 
     'No. Not unless you provoke me or endanger my mission.' 
     'I will not do that.' 
     'Good. This mission means a great deal to me. Mess it up and, friend or no friend, I will kill you. You know that, don't you?' 
     'I know that.' 
     She smiled and turned towards the exit passage. 'See you outside at sunset.' 
     'Very well.' 
     She paused at the doorway. 'Do you have a name?' 
     'Kryn.' 
     'Personal name or family name? 
     'The only name.' 
     'Very well, Kryn. I will be back in a few hours.' She made to leave and then stopped again. 'And all the charges are booby-trapped. Try to remove the detonators and it will no longer remain cool in here.' 
     There was no reply.

TWENTY-ONE

The sunshine at midday was hot so Marianne jogged in the nearby shadow and sat down on a huge rock to assimilate the morning's revelations. There was no movement from the enormous structure as the shadows around it slowly adjusted position and, later, began to lengthen. 
     She shivered a little as the temperature dropped and she was forced to move back into the daylight. As she moved closer to the doorway, she noticed a movement. At first, the form was vague, without shape. But, as more of it became visible, Marianne became aware of its size. 
     Without thinking, she picked up her gun and held it at the ready. But the shape did not attack her. Instead, it seemed to solidify and settle on the rocks about three metres from her. 
     'Thank you for waiting,' said Kryn. 
     Marianne shrugged. 'I had nothing better to do.' 
     The alien was large, about four metres tall and almost as wide. It seemed to have the ability to change shape at will. At that size, thought Marianne, it would not have been able to get down the passageway. 
     'Do I revolt you?' 
     'No,' she said honestly. It did not look real. 
     'Thank you.' 
     'Are you okay?' 
     'You care about me?' 
     'I care about everyone.' 
     'Even an alien?' 
     She nodded and lowered her gun. 'Even an alien.' 
     'You see that I am not like you.' 
     'I did not know what to expect. You are a pleasant surprise.' She suddenly laughed. 'You should see some of the characters in Star Trek.' 
     'Star Trek?' 
     'Cult TV movie series.' 
     'They were bad?' 
     'Not all of them. Others were really weird.' 
     'My appearance pleases you?' 
     'It does not fit my earlier memories of you.' 
     'If you wish, I can make myself look more human.' 
     'That will not be necessary. I would rather you were yourself.' 
     'Thank you.' 
     'No problemo.' 
     'That is not French.' 
     'No, it is Spanish. My maternal grandmother came from Andorra.' 
     'Do you have many languages on Earth?' 
     'About two hundred. And on Omicron?' 
     'Just the one. We use what you call telepathy. It is universal.' 
     She smiled. 'We do not use it much on Earth.' 
     'You are very lovely when you smile.' 
     'How can you tell? I am wearing a face mask.' 
     'Take it off so that I may see your mouth.' 
     'You have to be joking. I will suffocate.' 
     'You will not die. Trust me.' 
     She debated with herself for some time before unclipping her oxygen supply and letting it fall around her neck. 
     'You are more beautiful than I ever imagined. Let me see your hair.' 
     Feeling no ill effects, Marianne placed the gun on the ground beside her and lifted the lightweight helmet from her head and her long golden hair cascaded around her shoulders. 'You have seen me before,' she reminded him. 'In fact you have seen me completely naked.' 
     'Yes, but it was dark. I had to use my touch sensors to examine you.' 
     'I remember. Your examination was very thorough.' 
     'I very much enjoyed touching you. Your skin is smooth and your flesh is soft.' 
     Marianne grimaced. 'Not too soft, I hope.' 
     'Only in the right places.' 
     She laughed. 'How would you know which were the right places?' 
     'It was what the other men thought about. The male called Jean thought about touching your soft places all the time.' 
     'Yes, I guess he would. What brings you pleasure?' 
     'Life. Companionship.' 
     'That's all? No fun, games, holidays?' 
     'I do not understand the concept.' 
     'Hmm. Some earthmen are like that.' 
     'You do not speak highly of the male members of your race. Do you have a mate at home?' 
     'No, I do not.' 
     'And this Nicole? Has she had partners?' 
     'Yes, but not voluntarily.' 
     'She was (what did you call it earlier?) raped?' 
     Marianne nodded. 'Many times.' 
     'This is something unpleasant?' 
     'In Nicole's case, extremely unpleasant. She was raped below the age where mating is either allowed by law or healthy for the individual concerned.' 
     'And that is why you love her so much?' 
     'Is it that obvious?' 
     'I'm afraid so. I have examined your mind very thoroughly and you have not one negative thought towards your friend. On the contrary, your feelings of affection are very strong indeed.' 
     'Yes, I admit it. But there is nothing sexual involved.' 
     'How would that be possible?' 
     Marianne laughed. 'It would not by a normal person. But Earth has its share of perverts.' 
     'I see.' 
     'What difference is there between the male and female in your species?'
     'Very little. The differences are mainly mental.' 
     'On Earth, there are emotional differences as well as physical ones.' 
     The creature made what Marianne took to be a laugh. 'It seems that our worlds are not that dissimilar.' 
     Marianne observed the sun which was getting low in the sky. 'I must return to my camp soon.' 
     'I understand. You will come back tomorrow?' 
     'Perhaps.' 
     'You do not hate me?' 
     'I do not bear grudges. However, I am not convinced that this relationship can develop in the way you may have in mind.' 
     'I seek no more than your companionship. I long ago gave up the hope of finding a fully compatible mate.' 
     'Never give up hope.' 
     'You feel there is hope for...us?' 
     'As you say, a physical relationship is out of the question.' 
     'Agreed. All I seek with you is friendship. Spend time with me and I could help you and protect you from almost every eventuality.' 
     'Time, I have lots of.' 
     'I know nothing of your world. Could you teach me about that?' 
     'Of course. And you could tell me about yours.' 
     'It would be my pleasure.' 
     'So, till tomorrow?' 
     'What form would you like me to take?' 
     She smiled. 'Surprise me.'

     Surprise her, he did. She awoke and after working out as normal, she jogged back to Cydonia to find Kryn waiting in the image of a soft, purring lion. She smiled as she remembered thinking that image the day before. He was able to duplicate her mental pictures fairly accurately. 
     She sat beside him, initially in the sun but, as it got warmer, the shade. Her protective face mask and helmet came off within the first hour and the environment suit a short time later without ill effects. The whole thing was illogical, but her skin was able to cope with the reduced atmospheric pressure with no more than faint blotches which resembled sunburn. After three days, even these faded. 
     Earth history came first, then geography and, over the next few weeks, Kryn learned a great deal about Marianne's home planet. His own history was less exciting due to the general absence of wars. Weapons had not been developed although friction had been inevitable, generally over attitudes towards their homes and women. 
     A strange relationship did develop. Kryn seemed able to take on the form which suited Marianne's moods and it brought the young woman a large measure of humour as well as variety. The months flew by as they spent time together in the warm sun and Marianne found her shorts and bikini top more comfortable. But each night, they returned to their respective homes without regret. They were friends, not lovers.

TWENTY-TWO

Eventually, it dawned on Marianne that if a rescue attempt was being attempted from Earth, it would arrive soon. She hoped that Lander had returned safely, though there was no reason why it should not have done so. 
     On the three hundredth day, she risked a power drain by switching on her automatic radio beacon. The vocal transmitter had a relatively short range as it had been designed merely to communicate with orbiting modules. To reach Earth, a considerably larger one would be needed to transmit voice. 
     Through her sojourn, she had intermittently sent off small amounts of data so as not to produce a flat battery. 
     Her first vocal reply came almost a month later and the sound of Nicole's voice, which should have been a tremendous relief, was almost an anticlimax. 
     'Lander to Lascelles Base. Are you receiving?' woke her one slightly cloudy morning and she had to think for a moment as to whether it was an audio illusion. The voice was intermittent and full of static. 
     Realising it was real, she rolled out of her sleeping bag and sat at the transmitter. 'Lascelles Base to Mars Lander. Receiving, over. Welcome back, Nicole.' 
     'Oh, my god,' came the reply. 'You are truly still alive?' 
     'I'm afraid not. This is a recording, click. A recording, click. A recording....' 
     The laugh came loud and clear. 'Marianne, I am so glad to hear your voice. I had almost given up hope. Have you been lonely without me?' 
     She thought for a moment before replying. 'Yes, I missed you, too.' 
     Kryn would remain her secret for the time being. She knew that Nicole would not be alone and could not anticipate a stranger's reaction. 
     'Who is with you?' she asked instead, working her body into her pale blue flight suit. 
     'Hi, lover,' came the navigator's cheerful voice. 
     'Hello, Phil. How's the wife?' 
     'Pretty good, thanks.' 
     'Kids?' 
     'Three now. Jeanette had another boy. We called him Paul.' 
     How boring, thought Marianne, perhaps a little unkindly. 'How many with you?' 
     'Nicole and a couple of army guys, a biophysicist and doctor.' 
     She pulled on her trainers. 'Just the four of you?' 
     'We had to leave room to take you back, didn't we?' 
     She would have to warn Kryn to be careful. 'When do you get here?' 
     'Approaching orbit now. Separation is in an hour. We should be down by midday.' There was a delay. 'Marianne, are you there?' 
     She was not. With tears in the back of her eyes, she was already half way down the cliff face. The sun was not fully risen so it was icy cold in the shadow but the activity kept her going. 
     Her feet thumped the ground as she ran, full-tilt, across the uneven surface. There was no telling how trigger-happy the hit men might react to an alien from Omicron Cassiopeia. For all they knew, Kryn was responsible for the torture and deaths of dozens of women. From what she knew of army men, they would likely shoot first and skip the question stage altogether. 
     Her friend was not waiting for her, she was early. She ran with head down along the passage, shouting his name, bursting out into the wide, high corridor beyond. In the dark, she literally crashed into him and he instantly changed into the form of a man whose arms looped around her. 'What is it, Marianne?' 
     'They are coming.' 
     'Who are coming?' 
     'Earth people. They will be here in a few hours. You must hide.' 
     'Hide?' 
     'They do not know you as I do.' 
     'You believe they will react with violence?' 
     'I am certain of it. Believe me, I know my people.' 
     'What will we do?' 
     'You will remain hidden unless I come alone.' 
     'What about your friend, Nicole?' 
     'I trust her. As soon as I can get her alone, I will explain everything to her.' Marianne smiled. 'Even Nicole may take a little convincing. At first, she will be certain that I have gone bonkers.' 
     'Bonkers?' 
     'Mad in the head.' 
     'That, you could never be, my dear Marianne.' 
     'Thanks for the vote of confidence. You will be careful?' 
     'It seems that you really do care for me.' 
     'You doubt that? After a year together?' 
     'I am sorry. I fear that you will soon leave me and it makes me think...irrationally.' 
     'I will not leave you.' 
     'You say that now. But...' 
     'I will not leave you, I promise you that. This is now my home, too.' 
     'Your friends may try to persuade you otherwise.' 
     'There is no "may" about it. If I do not go willingly, they will likely try force.' 
     'I will protect you.' 
     'I do not want to start an interplanetary war. For the time being, lie low and hide. They will be here for at least a week, probably longer.' 
     'Nicole will help you?' 
     'Once I can convince her, yes.' 
     'Will she remain also?' 
     'I doubt it. The others are unlikely to be able to return without her. She is a key crew member.' 
     'And you will remain here without her?' 
     'Yes.' 
     There was a long silence. 'Nicole may try to persuade you to return.' 
     'Yes.' 
     'But you will stay.' 
     'Yes.' 
     'Thank you.' 
     'Look, I must go. They will be trying to contact me on the radio. If I do not answer, they will become suspicious.' 
     'I understand. Thank you.'

     Her speed back across the Martian surface would have put a four-minute miler to shame with the lower gravity but it was a reckless thing to do because of the terrain. At the foot of the cliff, she triggered the auto winch but also hauled herself up, hand over hand, till she rolled over the rim, sweating profusely in the morning sunshine. 
     Her eyes scanned the sky but no craft was yet visible. Nevertheless, the radio voice was going frantic. 'Marianne, this is Nicole, where are you?' 
     She grabbed the mic. 'I'm here, Nicole. Sorry, poor reception.' 
     'I have been trying to get through for an hour.' 
     'Has the Lander module separated?' 
     'Yes. We are on our way down now.' 
     'We? If you are coming, who is watching Orbiter?' 
     'Phil has stayed up top. I am piloting Lander this time. I will see you in a few minutes.' 
     Marianne stepped through the the doorway and peered upwards then suddenly remembered something. She had to put her environment suit on. Who knows how the crew might react at seeing her outside without it?

TWENTY-THREE

Lander put down a hundred metres from the Base camp, on almost the same spot as before and, almost instantly, the airlock was open and Nicole was running towards her. By the time they had finished hugging, the two men were outside, armed as if they had come to fight a hoard of crazy Martians. 
     'What's with the troops?' asked Marianne. 
     'Just a precaution,' replied her friend. 'We don't want any more attacks on the crew.' 
     'Nicole, I have been here just over a year and no-one has attacked me.' 
     'That's because you have stayed away from Cydonia.' 
     'On the contrary, I have been there quite a few times and have catalogued as much of the data as is possible.' 
     'Inside?' 
     'Right inside.' 
     'Safely?' 
     'Perfectly safely.' 
     'What else have you discovered?' asked the taller of the two men who came up behind Nicole. He held out his hand. 'Commander Peter Jenkins from London.' 
     Marianne smiled and shook hands with him. 'Well, water for one thing.' 
     'Water?' He looked astounded. 'Real water?' 
     'A very close approximation. I discovered it just below the surface in the canyon.' She was careful to omit the fact that it had been Kryn who had done all the hard work of locating and digging for the vital component to life. 
     'What else have you discovered?' 
     'Microbes in the area of the watercourse. We should have no trouble planting and growing trees in Marineris.' 
     'We brought some small trees in anticipation.' 
     'Good, I have already erected several greenhouse structures ready for them.' 
     'Pressurised?' 
     'Of course. And oxygen boosted. You just need to add nitrates and we are away.' 
     'You have been a busy little bee.' 
     'I have had little else to do. I have also mapped the whole region between Tharsis and Olympus Mons.' 
     'What? That is an area of ten thousand square miles.' 
     She handed him a cd rom disk. 'I have transmitted it home while you were on the way back, but it's all on here.' 
     'Are there any other structures in that area?' 
     Marianne shook her head. 'Just the one the archaeologists examined.' 
     'What did you learn about it?' 
     'That it is siliconised granite native of an area a few hundred miles south of here.' 
     'No more locally?' 
     'Just the local sandstone up here and sandstone mixed with shale in the valley bottom where the waters ran.' 
     He suddenly grinned. 'Is there anything you have left me to do?' 
     'Of course. I have been unable to interpret the markings on top of the Cydonia structure. Or find a use for the gouges in the valley bottom.' 
     'Irrigation ditches,' he said firmly. 
     'I don't think so. They run the wrong way.' 
     'I will look at them.' 
     'I thought you might. Help yourself.' 
     'Tomorrow,' he said. 'Let's get inside and look at the data you have given me.' 
     Marianne nodded towards the other man who seemed distinctively nervous as he fingered the safety catch on a machine carbine big enough to mow down a herd of stampeding bull elephants. 'Tell your mate to relax. It is perfectly safe here. This is not Earth.' 
     'We are not taking any chances.' 
     'Commander, I have had a year of taking every chance imaginable and I have no dents in me.' 
     They all went inside the camp and, after re-pressurising, removed their environment suits. Marianne also stripped off her flight suit to reveal denim shorts and cropped top. 
     'My god,' said Nicole; 'your skin.' 
     Marianne frowned. 'What about it?' 
     'The colour. You have a tropical sun tan. Are you sure you have no skin cancer from all that radiation?' 
     Marianne shook her head. 'I check weekly. No cancers of any sort. I am in top condition.' 
     'You look it,' said the shorter of the two men. 
     'Thank you. And you are...?' 
     'Medical Officer Andrew Perkins. They call me Doc.' 
     'They? So what do I call you?' 
     He noticeably blushed. 'You may call me Doc, too.' 
     Marianne shook his hand. 'Excuse my English Humour.' 
     'English? I thought you were French like Nicole.' 
     'Our family has lived in France for some time, but we originated in England. But my English is not as good as my French.' 
     'I have to say that you look extremely healthy for having spent a year on Mars.' 
     'Flattery will get you everywhere.' 
     'That is my professional opinion. I am a qualified physician. My first brief is to do a complete examination of you.' 
     'Let's eat first. I'm starving.' 
     'Nicole has some pre-prepared meals for us all which she just needs to reheat. My colleague will finish unloading Lander. That leaves you and I alone.' He waited until Peter left and Nicole went into the kitchen area. 'Okay. Let's have your clothes off.' 
     Andrew unpacked his case of instruments and set up several boxes which he connected to the computer. When he turned round, Marianne was lying on the bed in her panties. He was quick to notice that the tan was complete. 
     He pushed and probed, listened to her chest and carefully examined her breasts for lumps. He did not venture below the waist. 'Periods normal?' 
     'As normal as ever.' 
     'What does that mean?' 
     'I have not had a period since I was thirteen.' 
     He shrugged. 'That happens with some athletes and gymnasts. Are you keeping fit?' 
     'I jog at least ten miles a day. Is that keeping fit enough?' 
     'Not in the midday sun I hope.' 
     'Credit me with a little common sense, Doc.' 
     He smiled. 'Okay, turn over.' 
     She rolled over onto her tummy and felt the stethoscope on her back several times and had to breath deeply a lot. He examined her legs and then slapped her bottom playfully. 'You're fine. Get dressed.' 
     She swung her legs round and replaced her tee shirt and shorts. 'So?' 
     'I cannot believe the results. I was eighty-percent sure that you would be dead.' 
     'But not totally convinced?' 
     'No. The rest of me thought you would be burned to a frazzle, riddled with cancer and god knows what, as well as completely off your head.' 
     Marianne grinned as she pulled on her trainers. 'Sorry to disappoint you.' 
     'On the contrary. I am delighted with the result. That is my opinion both as a doctor and as a man.' 
     'Good.' 
     'Well, it does mean that life will be possible here.' 
     'Assuming we can develop the forests to oxygenate the planet.' 
     'You seem to have indicated that this is likely.' 
     'I have done better than that.' 
     'What have you done?' 
     'I have planted all my apple cores and plum stones.' 
     'And?' 
     'In the morning, I will take you to see my orchard.' 
     'Your orchard?' 
     'About twenty fruit trees. We will need many more to do the job properly.' 
     He smiled. 'How did you know?' 
     'How did I know what?' 
     'In addition to Lander and Orbiter, we also have Carrier.' 
     'Carrier?' 
     'A large container filled with trees and other items. Phil can send them down remotely when we are ready to receive.' 
     'Get him to land it in the valley itself. It will save a lot of humping.' 
     'You talk to him tomorrow. Tell him where you want it dropped.'

TWENTY-FOUR

The excitement was so high that little sleep was taken that night. Marianne was careful not to mention Kryn at all and the newcomers naturally assumed that she had single-handedly done all the things she spoke about. She naturally felt guilty about this because Kryn, with his superior strength, had done virtually all the hard work. 
     An odd relationship had developed between the two of them and, in time, they no longer thought of each other as aliens. But this would be difficult, if not impossible, to explain to others, Nicole being the possible exception. But opportunity did not arise that night to enlighten her faithful colleague. 
     At daybreak, Marianne showed the others how to use the winch to get down into the valley below. Eventually, they all stood in the sunshine below while Nicole guided Phil's Carrier down from Orbiter. It had no motor other than lateral retros to guide it to the right spot and the parachutes were enormous to make the best use of the thin atmosphere. 
     Gradually, the huge unit came down and was landed about a hundred metres from where they had descended on a level section near the bed of the dried up river. 
     The two army men disentangled the guy ropes and stowed the chutes in case the material should be needed for other things. The ropes, they coiled up and, eventually, dropped one end of the container. Marianne was astounded at the amount of equipment inside including a tubular assembly which, when put together, made up a contraption similar to an old fashioned stair lift. Now, they could get up and down the cliff face easier and move various items without having to physically carry them. Another item was a vehicle best described as a tracked golf cart on which they could all sit under a canopy made from utilising one of the chutes while it rumbled across the surface of Valles Marineris. Marianne realised they must have decided on the tracks after Phil and the others had reported the unevenness of the valley bottom. 
     During the first day, no-one went near Cydonia which was a relief to Marianne. Instead, everyone concentrated on unloading the young trees and extending the canopy which would cover them when planted. A long motorised drill made short work of making a well to tap the liquid beneath the surface to which was fitted a pump and sprinkler system. They had come well prepared. 
     Marianne found that, despite having Nicole around, she missed Kryn and kept thinking about how lonely he must feel. But then, he had been lonely for centuries and had to be used to it. She watched Peter taking rock samples and digging small trenches while Doc rigged up further canopies under which to plant trees. 
     Nicole came and stood beside her. 'It must seem strange to see so much activity.' 
     'It certainly does. Have you got a minute?' 
     Nicole grinned. 'I have all the time in the world till it's time to go home. My responsibility is to look after Lander.' 
     They walked a short distance along the valley floor and Marianne guided her friend behind a rocky outcrop. 'I have something to show you. But you must first promise not to tell any of the others.' 
     'Surely after all this time you don't doubt...' 
     'You will think that I am off my head.' 
     Nicole looked hurt. 'Marianne, this is me, your friend.' 
     The fair haired girl paused for a while, uncertain as to whether she was doing the right thing, and then unclipped her oxygen mask and let it hang free. 
     Nicole's eyes opened wide. 'What are you doing? You will suffocate.' 
     'No, I won't,' replied Marianne, unzipping her environment suit. 'I have adapted.' 
     'Adapted? But that's impossible. My god, do your suit up.' 
     'I don't need it. I am only wearing it now so as not to alarm you. Other than having to take an occasional oxygen boost, I can live here with no side effects. You heard what the doc said, I am perfectly healthy.' 
     'How...how quickly did you adapt?' 
     'It's not that simple to explain.' 
     'Could any of us do it?' 
     'I see no reason why not. But there is one problem.' 
     'Problem?' 
     'I cannot return to Earth.' 
     'But why not? Surely Andy can help in some way.' 
     'I cannot go back. Not only that, I do not want to go back.' 
     'What has made you change? What are you not telling me?' 
     'You promise not to tell?' 
     'Marianne, if you ask me that again, I will get really upset.' 
     'I have a friend.' 
     'A friend? Here? Are you kidding me?' 
     'No, but don't tell the others yet. I don't know how they will react.' 
     'Okay,' said Nicole slowly. 'Are you going to fill me in?' 
     'Not now. We may get a better chance tomorrow.' 
     'Does he live at this Cydonia place?' 
     Marianne nodded. 'It is Kryn's home now.' 
     'Kryn?' Nicole's lips curled in a wry smirk. 'Does he perchance have a friend?' 
     Marianne laughed. 'No, he is the last of his species. I am his only friend.' 
     'Shit!' said Nicole with mock anger. 
     'This is all between you and me, right?' 
     'Do I get to meet him?' 
     'Let's put it this way, he is dying to meet you.' 
     'Here, you two haven't been...?' 
     Marianne shook her head. 'We are not sexually compatible.' 
     'He's not human then?' 
     'Not even close.' 
     'But you trust him?' 
     'I didn't at first. In fact, I tried my damndest to blow him up.' 
     'Was he the one Mike told me about? The being who strung you up and tortured you?' 
     'It was not really like that. It turns out that he was trying to adapt me.' 
     'Well, if it hurts that much, I think I would rather not be adapted, thank you very much.' 
     'If I had known what he was doing from the start, it would have been easier to bear.' 
     'How long can you remain without your suit?' 
     'Indefinitely.' 
     'No long term ill effects?' 
     'Apparently not. In fact, there could be benefits.' 
     'But only if you stay here, on Mars.' 
     Marianne nodded. 
     'Is that what you want?' 
     'Yes, of course.' 
     'You like it here in this perpetual desert?' 
     'It won't be a desert for much longer. In a hundred years, the whole planet could be inhabited. Or, at least, the whole of this valley.' 
     'We'd better get back,' said Nicole, changing the subject. 'We don't want the others worrying.' 
     Marianne zipped up her suit. 'Okay, superbabe. Let's go and get lunch ready.'

     The lift that the men had constructed made getting up and down the cliff from Lascelles Base to the valley bottom considerably easier so the girls were able to make lunch and bring it down to the men very much quicker than would have previously been possible. By the end of the day, the valley had been transformed with the wide canopies being inflated over the first trees. The tractor had a miniature scoop on the back which made digging holes much easier. The sun was almost gone when the entire party retired to the base camp. 
     Marianne and Nicole, after taking down lunch, had spent the afternoon clearing up the camp and re-organising the layout in view of the new equipment which included more sophisticated cooking appliances. So they ate together and discussed the proposed activity for the rest of the stay. 
     'How long can you be here?' asked Marianne. 
     Nicole smiled. 'The return window is less specific due to the fact that we had to launch inbound.' 
     'Yes, I had forgotten that. So if you had to fly right past the sun, how did you get back here so quickly?' 
     'Two factors. Firstly, the sun actually gave us a boost to compensate for the additional distance.' 
     'Must have been some boost. The distance would have been double that of the first trip.' 
     'It was, and so the speed was faster, which is why Orbiter is currently in a lower orbit.' 
     'And the second reason?' 
     'Doctor Bartek has come up with an improved propulsion unit. He is working on an antimatter unit, too, which is intended to cut down the journey to a matter of weeks. But that is not likely to be ready for some years yet.' 
     'Met any good Martians?' asked Peter suddenly. 
     Marianne looked straight at him. 'It that supposed to be a joke?' 
     He laughed. 'Just curious. If you have mapped the area on that cd, then you would have seen something if it was here.' 
     Remembering that Kryn originally came from Omicron Cassiopeia, she told him quite truthfully that she had seen no native Martians. 
     'We'll take at look at Cydonia tomorrow,' he stated. 
     'Then descend from above,' advised Marianne. 'You won't be able to climb the structure. Just follow the rim of the valley and abseil down to it.' 
     'It sounds as if you have done it before.' 
     'No, we approached from below and had a problem. As I am sure the others told you, Lander came down on the structure itself.' 
     'Tell you what,' interrupted Andy. 'Two of us can approach from each end.' He looked at Marianne. 'Any problem with that?' 
     The young woman smiled innocently. 'None at all.' 
     'We'll need to get inside,' said Peter. 'We must find out what it was that captured and tortured you.' 
     'It hasn't happened again.' 
     'Well, we will need to check it out. If there are no Martians, then we must discover the truth.' 
     Marianne shrugged. 'Okay. Just don't ask me to go in.' 
     Remembering that Marianne, at the age of nineteen, had more than distinguished herself as an intelligence officer in the European Consortium War and was therefore not easily frightened, Peter grinned. 'We won't.'

TWENTY-FIVE

Marianne and Peter approached along the rim of the valley and she showed her colleague her tent and camera set up. Nicole approached along the valley bottom with Andy in the tractor. With additional equipment, they were able to keep in touch by radio. 
     Marianne was worried that Nicole might enter the temple. Not that she thought that Kryn would attack her but that he might try to speak to her and the men could retaliate in a predictably military manner. They had certainly come armed enough to do so.	
     She sat on the rim, hugging her knees, while she watched her colleagues exploring the area. Peter eventually abseiled down to the top of the structure and Andy explored the ramp area and found the doorway. Peter joined him a little later. Nicole, obviously remembering her plea, remained outside, keeping herself occupied charting in detail the water channels around the structure. 
     Occasionally, she could hear the crackle of the radios echoing across the valley but it was obvious that neither had found any signs of life. Marianne silently thanked Kryn. 
     'No problem,' came the message in her head. 
     'I don't want you hurt,' Marianne thought. 
     'I understand.' 
     'Can you see them?' 
     'I can feel their presence,' he replied. 
     'They mean no harm. Please just let them explore and they will leave in peace.' 
     'Are they putting pressure on you?' 
     Marianne instinctively shook her head. 'Not yet. But I can cope with them.' 
     'You seem very confident about that. You have told Nicole everything?' 
     'No, not everything. Just enough.' 
     'Does she accept your explanation?' 
     'In part. But she is a clever cookie. She knows I am holding something back.' 
     'About our relationship?' 
     'Partly.' 
     'Would it help if I talked to her?' 
     'Possibly. She is alone now while the men are exploring.' 
     'I will try.' 
     'Don't frighten her.' 
     'From you, I have built up a complete picture of your friend. I promise not to do anything to upset her.' 
     'I trust you, Kryn. But make no attempt to condition her. She must be able to return to Earth.' 
     'But I am very attracted to her.' 
     'Kryn, don't do it.' 
     'Why not?' 
     'It will make me very angry.' 
     'But I don't understand. She is your friend. Is it what your people call jealousy?' 
     'Jealously? Are you kidding? Nicole and I let nothing come between us.'
     'Then why can I not offer her conditioning?' 
     'Because Earth is her home at the moment. She must be able to go back there.' 
     'What if she decides to stay?' 
     'The issue is deeper than that. If Nicole stays, the others cannot return.'
     'Then I will have many friends here.' 
     'That cannot happen. There are not enough supplies to sustain everyone. If Nicole does not return, we will all die.' 
     'All of you?' 
     'Yes, me included.' 
     'We could always... dispose of the men. Then you and Nicole can safely remain here.' 
     'Kryn, I am serious. Do not interfere.' 
     'I am not convinced.' 
     'We have already been through this. Not only will you be endangering the mission, you will also risking your own life. The men will retaliate.' 
     'You believe they could bring me harm?' 
     'Kryn, they are equipped to cope with virtually any eventuality. You saw the explosive devices I brought that first day?' 
     'Yes.' 
     'Could that have harmed you?' 
     There was a pause. 'Yes. Perhaps not fatally, but seriously.' 
     'They have been warned by the man who was called Mike. They have brought with them a nuclear device large enough to destroy your home completely.' 
     'This structure?' 
     'Yes, that structure. You are from a world of peace. You have no idea what Earth people are capable of in terms of war. Please do nothing to provoke them. I do not want to see you hurt or killed.' 
     'You really care?' 
     'You doubt that after the year we have had together?'	
     'I apologise. I admit to being unsettled by your colleagues. I fear that you will wish to return.' 
     'Kryn, I cannot return without major reconditioning, you told me that.' 
     There was a long delay. 
     'Kryn?' 
     'I lied.' 
     'You what?' 
     'I lied about your ability to return.' 
     'In what way?' 
     'You could readjust on the way home by gradually pressurising your life support unit.' 
     It was Marianne's turn to be deep in thought. 
     'Now do you see my concerns?' 
     'Are you saying that you are considering preventing Lander's departure just to keep me here?' 
     'It did enter my head. I feel that I now can no longer live alone.' 
     'Kryn, listen to me. I will stay here. I am not going to return to Earth.' 
     'Your friends may feel otherwise.' 
     'We have been through this. I will remain as I promised.' 
     'Very well,' he replied eventually. 'I trust you.' 
     'Thank you.' 
     'Now may I speak to Nicole?' 
     'No. Wait until I warn her first. I don't want her frightened.' 
     'Your friend does not seem a person who would easily be scared.' 
     'She is not. But please respect my wishes in this matter.' 
     'Very well.' 
     Marianne picked up her radio. 'Nicole, do you read?' 
     'Sure thing, superbabe.' 
     'Kryn wants to talk with you. Just relax and then think your reply. If you speak, the guys may hear you.' 
     'Okay.' 
     She sat on the cliff top for an hour and watched her friend pacing, deep in telepathic conversation. The sun was warm on her back and casting sharp shadows on the valley bottom below her. A slight rustle beside her made her start but it was just a breeze which had sprung up. She put her hand on the map to stop it blowing away but when she looked up she could not help but notice that the shadows seemed less distinct. Squinting against the red sunshine, she looked around and noticed that the whole area looked hazy. 
     Marianne snatched up her binoculars and jumped to her feet. The west end of the rift was totally obscured by a thick red haze. She pressed the button on her radio. 'Captain to away team, we have a problem.' 
     'What's the problem?' came Nicole's voice. Then Marianne remembered that the structure, for some reason, totally absorbed radio waves so that she could not communicate with Peter and Doc. 
     'Looks like a severe sandstorm approaching from the west. We need to get under cover.' 
     'How far away?' 
     'Probably ten kilometres, but it is moving our way fast.' 
     'I'll warn the guys.' 
     'Don't go inside,' Marianne shouted instinctively. 
     'What?' 
     'They are safe. It is you that I am concerned about.' 
     'But if they are safe inside, surely I will be, too.' 
     'It's not that simple.' 
     'But if the storm is that close, I would never get back to Lascelles. And what about you?' 
     'I can lash down the tent here and shelter inside.' 
     'I don't think I would make it up to your present position.' 
     'You are very fit. You could try.' 
     'Not that fit. And what if I was caught out in the open or on the cliff face? No, I have to go inside the structure with the guys.' 
     'Be careful, Nicole.' 
     'I will. If all else fails, Kryn will look after me.' 
     Marianne swallowed, hoping her trust in the alien would not be violated. Over the last year, she had experienced sandstorms that had lasted for several days. She was not entirely sure how Kryn would react to spending so much time with Nicole for whom he had already expressed strong feelings. Was it simply jealousy? Or did she really believe that Kryn would harm her friend or attempt to prevent her return to Earth? 
     She looked to her left. The storm had already covered half the original distance and was denser than any storm she had seen to date. She blinked as the advance gust threw up a little dust. 'Nicole, get under cover now. You have only a couple of minutes.' 
     'Okay, boss. See you as soon as it blows over.' 
     Marianne watched her friend run to the doorway and disappear inside just before the storm hit below. She had just enough time to check the guy ropes of her tent and dive into it as everything was obscured by a thick red cloud. 
     The wind hit like a hammer blow which almost lifted her shelter bodily from the cliff. It was not just the wind which howled at her tent and tried to drag it over the edge, the sand itself seemed to be trying to make holes in the treated nylon canvas. 
     Marianne had survived a dozen or more such storms and none of them had been pleasant but this was by far the strongest so far. The tent shook and rocked as she moved her equipment into the four corners to try and give it a measure of stability, but she seemed to be losing the fight. There was a loud bang and a thump at the side and she knew that one of the guy ropes had either snapped or been torn from the ground. The left corner lifted so she threw herself into it, hoping her body weight would save the tent being blown over or, worse, tossed off the cliff-top. 
     The whole thing seemed futile, this was far worse than any other sandstorm she had witnessed and she knew that her life was seriously in danger. Not only that, she knew she would be no better outside as the tent had been twisted round so much, she had no idea which way the cliff-top was. She could take three steps outside and fall a thousand feet to her death. Another thump came as a second guy rope snapped. 
     'Marianne to away team, do you read?' she yelled frantically into her radio. 'Come in, Nicole. Come in, anyone.' 
     She knew that there was nothing anyone could do to help her but she owed it to them to let them know how she had died. 
     There was no answer. She had not really expected one from inside the structure. She just hoped that her colleagues were faring better. 
     There was another thump as the third guy went, allowing the whole shelter to swing round on the remaining strand. She was thrown into the far corner as it keeled over and then slowly rolled right off the edge of the cliff.
     Marianne held on for dear life as items of equipment were thrown at her, trapping her legs. She waited for the long drop and heavy bang at the bottom which, in spite of the lower gravity, would likely break every bone in her body. 
     Instead, everything rolled into one corner, including herself as the one remaining guy rope held firm. For some reason, she was slightly in the lee of the cliff but every time she moved, a creaking came from the support. It would not take much to break her life-saving strand. Instead, she simply curled up into a ball and tried to remain as still a possible. 
     After about three hours, the wind abated a little so she took a chance and unzipped the aperture slightly. The visibility was still bad but at least the sand was not trying to blast her skin off. So she took the opportunity to explore her predicament through eyes closed to slits against the airborne sand. The structure was still invisible as was the valley floor far below her. She could just make out the rim of the cliff just a couple of metres above her. She had two choices. She could toss out all the heavier equipment, much of it vital and irreplaceable, or wriggle out herself and somehow attempt to climb up the crumbling sandstone. 
     Trying not to move too much, she rummaged through the items crammed around her and finally located what she was looking for. Taking the long screwdriver in her right hand, she swung out and rammed it hard into the sandstone, testing it with her weight. It held, so she swung out of the tent, drawing up her legs under her, searching for any kind of foothold. There was nothing very safe so she searched with her other hand till she found another of the set of screwdrivers and jammed it into the rock a little higher than the first, her entire dead weight hanging on her hands. For the first time in her life, she was really grateful for her hard training regime. 
     Gradually and painfully, she hauled herself up, literally inch by inch until her head was level with the rim. Unfortunately, the rock on the lip was crumbly and she could find nowhere safe from which to hang. She was stuck. 
     'Kryn,' she said quietly as her arms grew tired. 'If you can hear me, I desperately need your help.' 
     She had no idea how he would get past her colleagues below or even whether he would choose to do so but he was now her only chance. The wind was still howling, visibility still virtually zero and seemingly no end to her ordeal. 
     There was no reply to her plea. Either Kryn had not heard her due to the wind or some other factor to do with the storm which was, at least in part, obviously electrical, or he simply could not or did not want to help. 
     Her arms grew more tired and she realised that if she did not want to fall to her death, she would have to do something about her position. She did not have the strength to fight the loose sand and dare not risk removing the embedded tools for fear she would no longer be able to ram them into something solid. 
     So she did the only thing she could think of. In a one desperate struggle, she pushed down on her anchors till they were at waist level and, with some difficulty, looped her belt over one and then the other so that there was at least some relief to her arms. Now all she had to do was lie as still as she could, half over the rim, until either help came or some miracle occurred.

TWENTY-SIX

Assistance came from an unexpected quarter. Unable to open her eyes because of the blinding grit in the air, she had great difficulty staying awake, especially as darkness came over the landscape. It was only a short period before the temperature, which had been at a comfortable thirteen degrees through the day, warmer during the storm, plummeted to minus seventy degrees and she began to shiver uncontrollably and her unprotected hands started to turn blue. It was then that she realised what else was happening, the loose sandy rock which contained the moisture she had sweated from her body, was freezing solid and no longer crumbled under her scrambling hands. 
     It still took almost an hour but she managed to move her body, still suspended by the belt, into a horizontal position and then literally roll over the top onto more solid ground. 
     The wind had abated quite a bit as night fell so she was able, with some difficulty due to the contents which had become dead weight, to drag her tent back up the slope, re-erect it further back from the cliff top and crawl into it, collapsing instantly from the exertion. She didn't even have the energy left to get into her insulated sleeping bag but covered herself with it and fell into a deep sleep.

     She woke, not in her tent, but at Lascelles Base Camp. The lights were bright as she lay on Doc's medical bed in her tee shirt and shorts with the others gathered around her. Nicole smiled. 'I thought I had lost you, superbabe.' 
     'I...' Marianne cleard her throat but still spoke hoarsely. 'I...I don't kill easy.' 
     'Acute hypothermia,' clarified Doc, laying a blanket over her. 
     'You brought me back here?' 
     'I don't know what it was, but something made us leave the safety of the temple and start searching for you.' 
     That could be Kryn, thought Marianne. Better late than never, she added a little unkindly. 'Am I all right?' 
     'Nothing that a couple of days of warmth and rest won't cure.' 
     Her heart started beating faster. She couldn't leave Kryn that long. He would begin to worry again about the possibility of her leaving. 'I need to talk to Nicole alone.' 
     Doc laughed. 'Girlie stuff, huh?' 
     She grinned feebly. 'Something like that.' 
     Doc and Peter made themselves scarce with work on the stores and Nicole sat down beside the bed. 'What's up, boss?' 
     'I need you to go to Kryn.' 
     'We chatted yesterday.' 
     'And?' 
     'He wanted me to stay.' 
     'What did you tell him?' 
     Nicole smirked. 'That I was free and available.' 
     'We cannot both stay here. Someone has to get these guys back to Earth.' 
     'Phil can do it.' 
     'But these guys have to get up to orbit.' 
     'Either you or I could still do that and then come back down again.' 
     'Nicole, why are you doing this? You know that the chances of them getting back to Earth without one or the other of us are slim to none. Phil is good, but not that good.' 
     'We could programme Orbiter and set it going. When they approach Earth, Juan could talk Phil in.' 
     'And you think that Peter and Doc will just go home and leave us? Just like that?' 
     'We could trick them.' 
     'Nicole. This is crazy. You have to go back as planned.' 
     'Not without you.' 
     'But I have to stay. I gave Kryn my word. Anyway, there is work to be done here now that we have planted all these trees.' 
     'You mean sitting and watching them grow?' 
     'No, I mean continuing the work I started.' 
     'Alone?' 
     'Of course, alone.' 
     'And what if you got caught in another sandstorm?' 
     'I have survived several Martian sandstorms.' 
     'But you nearly didn't survive this one. Some one has to be here with you.' 
     'I have Kryn.' 
     'But he didn't help you this time, did he?' 
     Marianne paused. 'No. For some reason, he was unable to assist.' 
     'Then if you stay, I must stay.' 
     'But Nicole, if we had both been in that tent, we would both have been in danger.' 
     'Are you telling me that you would rather have one of the guys stay with you? You prefer a feller to me?' 
     'Now don't get jealous. I didn't mean that at all.' A sly smile touched her lips. 'Though having a man around could have its advantages.' 
     'And what would Kryn think to that?' 
     'I believe he could be rather upset.' 
     'Yes, I think so, too.' 
     'Nicole, please don't make me have to give you a direct order. We have known each other for a long time and I was very sad when I had to send you back before.' 
     'You seem determined to get rid of me.' 
     'It's not like that, Nicole. We both have responsibilities. For the time being, mine is here and yours is on board the space craft, especially with the extended journey times.' 
     'You really do want me to go back.' 
     Marianne looked straight at her friend. 'Yes, for this time at least, I really do need you to go back. Perhaps by next time, we can arrange something different.' 
     'You will be all right alone?' 
     Marianne laughed lightly. 'With all this extra equipment, it will be luxury in comparison to the last year.' 
     Nicole watched her friend sit up and the girls hugged. 'I feel better now.'
     'Don't think that I can't do without you, superbabe. From now on, I will have to depend on you more and more as we develop this planet.' 
     'So what can I do to help while I am here?' 
     'Just keep the guys off my back and support me when I announce that I am remaining here.' 
     'You have the right as Commander of the mission.' 
     'True, but they might not see it that way. Doc may invent some strange illness to try and override my directive.' 
     'Would they do that?' 
     'It depends why they are really here.' 
     'What do you mean?' 
     'You have seen how well armed they are. They may know something about medicine and biophysics but they are no more	archaeologists that you or I.' 
     Nicole frowned. 'What do you mean?' 
     'Look, they have been here several days and have made no serious attempt to decipher the markings at the structure. Nor, apart from sheltering from a storm, have they spent much time inside.' 
     Nicole sat in silence. 
     'Tell me. When you were in there with them, what did you all do?' 
     Nicole laughed. 'They went about like a swat team on a raid, as if they expected to be attacked at any second.' 
     'Did anything happen?' 
     'No, Kryn laid low. They guys searched pretty thoroughly but found nothing or no-one.' 
     'There is another level,' said Marianne. 
     'A what?' 
     'Above the main corridor, there is a higher level though I have no idea how you get to it.' 
     'Where Kryn lives?' 
     'I assume so. In fact, the whole place could be honeycombed with passages. It could be a huge city. There is certainly room for it.' 
     'You have never been up there?' 
     Marianne shook her head. 'I have never felt the need to do so. I prefer to be outside where I can see what I am doing.' 
     'Don't tell me you have become scared of the dark.' 
     'No, but what is the point of being somewhere when you cannot see what you are doing.' 
     'None, I suppose. Do you think that Kryn is telling you the the truth, the whole truth, I mean?' 
     'I keep thinking the same thing. In all my explorations, I have found no trace of his spacecraft.' 
     'You are sure he is alone?' 
     'Well, put it this way. I have never seen anything to convince me otherwise.' 
     Their conversation was interrupted by the return of the men. Doc smiled. 'Feeling better?' 
     Marianne nodded. 'Much better, thanks. How did you get on at Cydonia?' 
     'Some place. I never expected it to be so big.' 
     'What do you think it was?' 
     'We have not finished our investigations.' 
     'Are you going back today?' 
     'No, we will wait until tomorrow and leave at first light. We can spend all day there.' 
     Marianne smiled innocently. 'I hope you find something worth coming all this way for.' 
     'You have done much of the work for us.' 
     'But I discovered nothing significant about the structure.' 
     Peter smiled. 'Nothing you are prepared to tell us about.' 
     Marianne frowned. 'And what is that supposed to mean?' 
     'It means that you have not told us everything.' 
     'What brings you to that conclusion?' 
     'You do. There are significant loopholes in your story.' 
     Marianne stood up and faced him. At 167cm, she was almost as tall as he was and his confidence waned a little, knowing that she was also very strong and fit. 'Such as?' 
     'You cannot intimidate me, young lady.' 
     'I would simply remind you that until I hear otherwise, direct from Earth, I am still Commander of this mission. If I work on a "need to know" basis, that is my prerogative. I will tell you what you need to know. Understood?' 
     Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Doc's hand moving slowly towards his holstered automatic and tensed herself to give a karate kick which would numb his arm, but she needn't have worried. 
     'I wouldn't do that if I was you,' said Nicole calmly, pointing Marianne's gun at him. 'Or I might interpret your action as mutiny.' 
     No-one moved for several minutes until Peter sneered. 'I suppose you think you are being clever, ladies.' 
     'No, just cautious,' said Marianne. 'This is my world, gentlemen, and what I say goes.' 
     'But our orders...' 
     'I really don't give a damn about your orders. While you are here, you will obey mine, is that clearly understood?' 
     Neither of the men spoke. 'If you do not agree, I will be forced to disarm you. If you usurp the line of command, I will have you locked up. Am I making myself clear?' 
     Doc suddenly smiled. 'Are you not getting a little paranoid, Mademoiselle DeBosvile?' 
     Her right eyebrow raised. 'Paranoid? I came here for peaceful exploration. Who authorised your "shoot to kill" policy?' 
     'I am not sure...' 
     'If you want my help, you had better start getting more co-operative, fellers. You rely on Nicole and I to get home.' 
     'We never expected to find you here alive.' 
     'Then who did you think was sending back all the data? Santa Clause?' 
     'Data?' 
     'I have been sending back a constant stream of information and a summary each week.' 
     'It was believed that these were being sent automatically.' 
     'I am aware that the computer could do certain things automatically but not compile summaries. In fact, the only thing I have not been able to do because of transmitter limitations is send voice messages.' 
     'I didn't know that.' 
     'Maybe not. But someone back there knew.' She turned to Nicole. 'Was anything said to you?' 
     'Not a thing. That's why I was surprised to hear your voice as we came into final approach.' 
     'So, someone back at Europa is playing silly games. And what brief did they give you two guys?' 
     'Just to find out what had happened to you.' 
     'And what else?' 
     'We...we...?' 
     'You had to find out why I opted to stay behind, perhaps?' 
     Doc looked straight at her. 'Yes.' 
     'And have your questions been answered?' 
     'Partly.' 
     Marianne paused and then reached over and flicked a switch. 'Lascelles Base to Orbiter, do you read?' 
     'Hearing you loud and clear, Marianne,' came the pilot's voice. 
     'I need you to patch me through to Orion.' 
     'Okay boss. It'll take a few minutes while I align the antenna.' 
     'I will wait, Phil. This is urgent.' 
     'What are you doing?' asked Peter. 
     'Something I should have done a long time ago.' 
     'Which is?' 
     'You will soon know.' 
     They waited in silence until the radio crackled. 'You're through to Orion, Marianne. But remember that the delay will be an hour before reply.' 
     'Thanks, Phil.' She cleared her throat. 'This is Marianne deBosvile, Commander of the Marineris Mission. As you know, I have been living here for just over one year which is the normal time in most countries to gain naturalisation. It is for this reason that I now declare that this colony has today established independence from Earth.' 
     Peter made a move towards her but the click as Nicole took off her safety catch halted him. 
     Marianne continued. 'As the sole human on this planet as of last week, I declare myself First Minister of ETA, Extra-Terrestrial Agriculture. My assistant and Science Officer is Nicole Duchanet. I have also appointed an Ambassador on Earth, Nathalie Risemann, and her assistant Alison Hart. All future communication with this planet will be made through the established medium.' 
     'You can't do this,' interrupted Doc but Marianne ignored him. 
     'I have at the moment two representatives of Earth who will be permitted to return to Earth as planned and they will receive every assistance from myself and Mademoiselle Duchanet to do so. Any attempt to breach this unilateral declaration will be interpreted as an act of war. Please confirm your acceptance within the next twenty-four hours. Lascelles Base out.' 
     'The press will have heard that,' said Nicole with a sly smile. 'If Phil has sent it.' 
     'He has,' said Marianne, pointing to the signal strength meter. 'They will receive it in about half an hour.' 
     'What about us?' asked Peter. 
     Marianne smiled. 'You are our guests. But Martian regulations forbid the bearing of arms. So I must ask you to surrender your weapons.' 
     'You have got to be joking.' 
     There was a loud bang and part of the side of his shoe was ripped away but the barrel was back pointing at his face before he could even register surprise. Nicole smiled. 'You doubt my hand to eye co-ordination?' 
     'Good god, you're serious, aren't you?' 
     She smiled. 'Serious as a quadruple by-pass.' 
     'Don't tell me you have decided to join her in this madness?' 
     'No, I decided that some time ago. This is not a spur-of-the-moment thing. We have planned it for years.' 
     'But...' 
     'Here on Mars, there is nothing to shoot at. So if you insist on carrying weapons, I have to assume that you intend to shoot me and that would not please me at all. So if you would kindly place your artillery in the store room, it would save blood being spilt. Yours.' 
     Reluctantly, the two men gave up their weapons and Nicole put the Tokarev into her overall pocket. Seeing the look of readiness on Peter's face, Marianne leant closer and whispered; 'Don't even think about it.' 
     He did think about it and instinctively reached up and twisted his hands in the material of her tee shirt, pulling her sideways, off balance. Marianne didn't struggle but rolled with him but then continued, gripping his overall and, as they hit the floor, pulling her knees up to her chin, her feet in his stomach, pushing upwards. 
     Peter had no idea which way was up until he crashed into the pile of boxes in the corner. He looked up but Marianne was already on her feet, crouched like a tiger a metre away from him. As he attempted to rise, he saw her balance shift and knew that she had adapted to the change of gravity far better than he had and that one kick from her would send him, at least temporarily, to oblivion. Instead, he held up his hand. 'Okay, you win.' 
     Marianne relaxed and held out her hand to him, helping him to his feet. 'I strongly advise you not try that trick again.' 
     'Okay, okay. So what happens now?' 
     'We continue as normal for the rest of today. Tonight, we decide when you return.' 
     'You are staying here again?' 
     'Of course. It is my home now.' 
     'It would not be wise to stay alone.' 
     'I have been through that with Nicole. The three of you, with Phil Thomas, will go home as scheduled. You will be welcome to return here at any time as long as you come in peace.' 
     'You are going to trust us?' 
     'No, but without Nicole, you have no chance of getting home so if I were you, I would be very nice to her. If she comes to harm, you will both die, here on Mars or on the way home.' 
     'And yourself, of course.' 
     Marianne smiled and shook her head. 'No, I will survive.' 
     Doc began to laugh. 'What makes you different to the rest of us?' 
     She glanced briefly at Nicole and then headed for the makeshift airlock. Doc made to stop her but Nicole's automatic held him back as he watched Marianne, with neither oxygen nor environment suit, walk out into the bright Martian day. Both men held their breath, expecting any moment to see her either gasping for breath or screaming as her blood vessels burst. When neither happened, he simply gaped. 
     'You want to try this?' she called. 
     Doc sat down. 'This is impossible.' 
     'For you, yes,' said Nicole. 'For me, too. But Marianne is now a Martian.' 
     'My god,' said Peter. 'I must be dreaming.' 
     Nicole stepped forward and slapped his face hard. 'Did that hurt?' 
     He put his hand to his reddening cheek. 'Of course it bloody hurt.' 
     'Then you cannot be dreaming, can you? And next time you attack my friend, expect injury to more than just your pride.'

TWENTY-SEVEN

Nathalie looked up as she heard the vehicles approach up the long slope. She smiled. 'I guess they are here.' 
     Alison, in Speedo swimsuit, swung her legs off the sun lounger. 'Right on cue. I'll get dressed.' 
     Three cars stopped at the gateway and the man who was obviously their leader reached out to put his hand on the gate. When Nathalie smiled at him from the inside, he paused. 'Is this thing live?' 
     She pointed. 'What does that sign say?' 
     'Danger 110 volts,' he read. 
     'It won't kill you, but please go ahead and make a fool of yourself.' 
     'Turn it off,' he said. 
     'I would remind you,' said Nathalie to him without raising her voice; 'that this is a foreign embassy and access is by invitation only.' 
     'Turn it off,' he repeated. 
     'Give me one good reason why I should.' 
     The soldier beside him took the safety catch off his Heckler and Koch semi-automatic. 
     Nathalie looked straight at him. 'Are you going to shoot me, soldier?' 
     Both men looked defiant but not murderous so she reached out and flicked a switch in a box beside the gate. The leader swallowed noticeably before touching the gate and pushing it open. Two of his colleagues stood beside Nathalie while others went to look for Alison. In minutes, the girl in question came out dressed in a neat white blouse and pleated skirt, carrying a brief case. Both were hustled into separate cars which drove off, leaving a guard on the villa at Sorède.

     The two young women were taken to the airport and flown, by private jet, to Paris and thence by car from Charles de Gaule Airport to an ornate building off Rue de Fauburg St Honore. The room they were ushered into contained a dozen men sitting round a huge polished Brazillian mahogonay table. 
     'Please be seated,' said the man at the head. 
     Nathalie recognised the head of the Euro Council from news items. Some of the other European representatives were also vaguely familiar. She sat where indicated, Alison next to her. 
     'So what do you know of this hair-brained scheme to take over the Marineris project?' 
     'Sir, there is no scheme as you call it. The mission remains intact as planned. None of Europa's rights have been compromised. In fact, you have, I believe, received more data from Marineris than you could ever have anticipated.' 
     'That is true, but...' 
     'And what right have you, or anyone else, to violate clearly declared ambassadorial territory?' 
     'That is not the issue under consideration right now.' 
     'Then why were we dragged here virtually as prisoners? When Minister deBosvile finds out, the repercussions could be considerable.' She slowly waved her arm around the table. 'Heads will roll.' 
     'Mademoiselle Risemann, have you forgotten where you are?' 
     She stood up without warning. 'No, and neither have I forgotten who I am.' 
     'I beg your pardon.' 
     'Is it not normal to adresss an ambassador by a formal title?' 
     'Don't tell me that you, too, are taking this farce seriously?' asked the Chancellor of Germany. 
     'I would refer you to section three of the New European Constitution. Any declaration of independence must be considered by a duly constituted body under the direction of the UN Security Council.' 
     A sneer came to the face of the French Premiere. 'And I suppose you will be wanting join NATO.' 
     Nathalie burst out laughing. 'Since when was Mars in the North Atlantic?' 
     'You think this is a joke, mademoiselle?' 
     'Not at all. But you obviously think it is. Unless you think that an unarmed young woman a quarter of a billion miles away constitutes a threat to European peace. That would surely be seen as very funny indeed.' 
     'By what right do you claim this presumed uninhabited territory?' 
     'As I am sure Minister deBosvile has explained fully, by right of occupation. However, full exploration and mining rights have been granted to the Europa Corporation in exchange for certain non-monetary favours.' 
     'And what favours would they be, Mademoiselle Rismann?' 
     'That is surely between the parties concerned.' 
     A man at the top of the table stood up. 'You know me, mademoiselle?' 
     Nathalie nodded. 'Certainly, Doctor Froment.' 
     'As Director of Project Marineris, I give you full permission to reveal those details.' 
     'Very well. They grant total availablility to the data, a sample of which has been transmitted over the last few months while your second crew were en route. This will continue free of charge. In return, we just request supplies of life-support equipment.' 
     'That is all?' 
     Nathalie nodded again. 'That is all.' 
     'And what is we refuse?' 
     Nathalie turned to Ali who opened her brief case. The younger girl took out an A4 envelope and scattered the photos from it across the polished table top. 'Recognise any of the faces?' 
     The ministers scrabbled among them and the babble inscreased. 
     'Where did you get these?' was eventually asked. 
     'You heard the announcement from Nicole last year. These are the pictures she was talking about.' 
     'But these photos are several years old and the men no longer hold political office. Such a thing would not be tolerated in today's society.' 
     She selected another two photos. 'These are more recent.' 
     Doctor Froment picked them up. 'But they are...' 
     'Yes, they are Ali and I and were taken, as I know you are aware, only a few months ago. The corruption is still there, Monsieur le Directeur.' 
     'And what do you intend to do with these photographs? I have to assume that these are not the only copies.' 
     'You assume correctly. Nothing will happen as long as our constituted rights are observed.' 
     'It is not that simple.' 
     'Of course it is that simple. Or would you prefer it went formally to the European High Court of Appeal?' 
     'But that could take years.' 
     'Of course. Your justice system is so corrupt that many cases are dropped due to the costs involved.' 
     'This is dangerous talk, mademoiselle. But such a proposition would be taken more seriously if it had international character.' 
     Nathalie nodded to Ali who took out a file and circulated sheets of paper. 'These are our curriculum vitæs. You will note that Mademoiselle deBosvile is of Anglo-French descent. The attached genealogical print-out shows that she is descended from King Arthur of Camelot who was born of a British father and Breton mother. King Charles the second appointed Marianne's anscestor as Lady Ramsden. This descent was accepted without question after the Consortium War when she was appointed to the European Triumvirate at the age of twenty. Nicole Duchanet, as I am sure you are aware, had an English scientist as father and a Catalan mother. Her maternal grandfather was one time Lord Mayor of Barcelone and her grandmother came from Andorra.' 
     She indicated the teenager beside her. 'Alison Hart is from London. Her father is Lord Justice Hart and her mother is from a banking family of Switzerland. I have a father from the Netherlands and my mother is Icelandic. How much more international can this get?' 
     There was a heated discussion around the table for quite some time as Nathalie and Alison sat in silence. Eventually, the room became silent once more. 'And what guarantees do we have that this status quo will be maintained?' 
     Nathalie laughed aloud. 'Who are we going to sell out to? Cardacians? Klingons, perhaps? You watch too much science fiction, messieurs.' 
     'You must understand that this is not an every day occurance.' 
     'You are right. And that is why we must establish the ground rules right at the start. Mars is not going to become another Earth. Instead, think of it as a kind of Antarctica, international territory. There is certainly not any kind of threat to life on Earth.' 
     'It will be expensive to maintain a base in such a remote place. We cannot send a supply ship at the drop of a hat. Mars is considerably further than Antarctica.' 
     'That is true. But the Orbiter and Lander modules can be reused over and over again. Between trips, you will have a year to ferry supplies up to the Orion Space Station. The crafts will not have to return to Earth itself.' 
     'It will still be extremely expensive.' 
     'Monsieur, if the two planets were at war, the resources would appear as if by magic, you know that. The money would be found. Within three years, it is estimated that several colonies could exist on Mars and be largely self-sufficient.' 
     'Now who is talking science fiction?' 
     'Speak to your people. Nicole Duchanet is still the Europa Corporation Science Officer. Interrogate her data then check it with the two men you sent to spy on her.' 
     The British representative jumped to his feet, spluttering. 'But this is preposterous, young lady. We would do no such thing.' 
     'Please sit down, sir. I have lived in England for long enough to know that if Marianne and Nicole were English, you would be hailing them as heroes. The problem with you British is that any project is a waste of time and money unless you thought of it first.' 
     'This is not getting us anywhere,' interrupted Doctor Froment. 
     'No, and I still need to know why my colleague and I were arrested and brought here against our will. What is the charge?' 
     'We will let you know in due course.' 
     'Then we are free to go?' 
     'I am afraid not.' 
     'Then I have to say, as appointed Ambassador of the Mars colony, that the two spies caught at Lascelles Base will also remain as prisoners and may face deportation.' 
     'Is that a threat, young lady?' 
     Nathalie smiled. 'Of course. I hate to think what the press will make of this.' 
     'The press? Until this matter is resolved, it will remain under the Official Secret's Act. Information may not be released.' 
     Nathalie grinned. 'Too late.' 
     The Chairman frowned. Nathalie turned to Ali, who stood up and unbuttoned her blouse. With every eye on her she unclipped a small box, the size of a matchbox, from her bra. 'Everything that has been said has gone direct to Radio France.' 
     'We will issue a clampdown.' 
     'I was afraid you would say that, so I pulled strings and arranged for this conversation to go out live. The entire population of Europe is listening to this conversation. If you doubt that, turn on a radio.' 
     'Good god, woman. Do you know what you have done?' 
     'Yes, I am fully aware what we have done. We have allowed you to show the world how shortsighted politicians can be. Can we go now?'

TWENTY-EIGHT

Within two days, a rough draft was drawn up by an embarrassed European Directorate drastically reduced in size after several unexpected resignations. Nicole left Mars with the two men, leaving Marianne alone once more. The return trip took the expected eight months and Nicole was greeted at Orion with understandable caution by everyone except Juan Fernandez who hugged her like a long lost sister. 
     When Nicole caught the shuttle back down to Europoort, she half expected to be arrested or, at least, have a serious row with the Directorate. But the intervening months had allowed the emotional heat to dissipate and the dust to settle. Instead, she found that she was the centre of attention as she attended one press conference after another as well as several scientific seminars to clarify the data which had been beamed in from Lascelles Base. Few arrests had been made but several embarrassed people were conspicuous by their absence from international affairs. The technicians at Europa were simply interested in what she needed to take back and how radio reception could be improved. As the problem had mainly been one of power, a larger array was packed for return as well as improved solar panels and batteries. A nuclear reactor had been considered but later dismissed in the interests of Mars remaining, at least for the time being, a nuclear free zone. This satisfied various protest groups as well as Nicole herself who was uncertain how a reactor and generator would survive the parachute drop from Orbiter. If such a power source was deemed necessary at a later date, it could be sent via an unmanned craft and landed away from the existing main base. 
     Instead, a chemical convertor was being sent which, using transported hydrogen, would separate the componets of the Martian atmosphere. Oxygen would be used to breathe and some would combine with Methane to make fuel. The bi-product would be carbon monoxide which would be vented, and water, a useful component anywhere. 
     The return of Mars Lander was delayed while the main drive underwent overhaul and the booster rockets enlarged to speed up the journey. Additional fuel tanks were also connected so that the lander module, looking more like a shuttle with every trip, could make several trips down to the surface and move to another location if deemed necessary. For this third trip to Mars, Phil Thomas was appointed as Captain and Juan Fernandez as Engineer. Two other scientists were permitted on the trip on the condition that they were not forces personnel and did not carry weapons. These would remain on the surface while Orbiter looped round Mars and came straight back after the release of the Lander module. The call for volunteers was answered immediately by Dr Jean Annas and ex KGB officer Micheel Polinski. After a thorough medical examination, Nicole was allowed back to Orion on the next supply shuttle. 
     Several other changes had been made, including the development of the Orion Space Station which had in the meantime been bought by the Russian consortium, Ralentev Industries, which leased out communication facilities to almost every developed nation. Around twenty personnel occupied it permanently with plans to expand to a capacity of one hundred with docking bays for several space vehicles. 
     As Nicole waited for the craft to be re-stocked with supplies, she noticed that a huge unmanned supply spacecraft was already under construction and could be ready to depart for Mars before Lander V returned from the current trip. The orbit of Mars was almost twice as long as that of Earth which meant that on a year-long trip, one leg of the journey would always be longer than the other. At the point of departure, Mars was close to Earth making their approaching trip a relatively short one. It was anticipated that with the additional boosters, the journey could be made in little over four months which pleased all the crew. Nicole smiled at the thought that she would be back with Marianne in around nine months instead of the longer delay last time. 
     The Martian Embassy had been transferred from her home in Sorede to offices close to the growing spaceport at Rotterdam which meant that Nathalie was close to her family and Ali could regularly take the jetfoil from Le Hague to her home in London. They both missed the sunshine but were happy to be more closely involved in the project. A direct line was put in connecting to the Europa headquarters and staff extended to include secretarial and other administrative personnel. 
     Nathalie coped well with her duties but delegated virtually all the PR work to the enthusiastic and very beautiful Alison Hart. At first, Ali was regarded with a little disdain being, first of all, a female and, secondly, a blonde and, thirdly, only twenty-two years old. But she charmed them by never appearing to be clever nor talking down to them but always presenting information in terms they (and she) could comprehend and present to their readership. For the first time since 1969, space travel was back in the news.

TWENTY-NINE

On Mars, Marianne continued the activity that had been started. She adapted the booster fuel tanks from Lander to carry water and welded them onto each side of the tractor so that she could fill them from the pump in the well and keep the trees regularly sprayed. Although various kinds of fertiliser had been left behind for her, she used none of them, taking the view that she might do more harm than good in such an unknown environment. 
     In her activity, she did not visit Kryn for several days, partly because she was busy and partly because she could not find the words to explain her new situation which she was afraid could result in an adverse reaction. After all, he was there first. 
     On the third day, he came to visit her. 
     'Have you forgotten me?' he asked as he surprised her at lunch. 
     She looked up. 'Of course not. It's just that I have been busy.' 
     'Do you no longer need my help?' 
     'It's not that,' she said defensively. 'It's just that...' 
     'Yes?' 
     'I have something to tell you. Things have changed.' 
     'Between me and you?' 
     'Not necessarily.' 
     'All your friends have departed?' 
     'Yes. I am here alone with you.' 
     'Then what is so different that you are afraid to talk to me?' 
     'I am not afraid exactly. Just concerned.' 
     'Concerned?' 
     She nodded. 'Concerned about your possible reaction.' 
     'Concerning the declaration of independence?' 
     She was startled. 'How did you know about that?' 
     'I heard your speech. It was very forthright.' 
     'How could you hear my speech? Where were you?' 
     'Right outside your camp.' 
     'You eavesdropped? You sneaked up on me and listened in to a private conversation?' 
     'It was hardly private. All your colleagues heard it as well as many people on Earth.' He paused. 'So it was only supposed to be private from me, was it?' 
     'Not exactly. I was going to tell you.' 
     'When?' 
     'Soon.' 
     'We could have discussed it first.' 
     'Do you object?' 
     'That is not the point. I would have preferred to be consulted.' 
     'I'm sorry. did I do the wrong thing?' 
     'That depends on what you intend to do.' 
     'I do not intend to set up rulership or anything. I am not that ambitious.' 
     'Rulership? Over what?' 
     'Well, you for one thing. I do not see you as a subject or in any way inferior. Your rights are equal to mine, they always will be. We are both interlopers here.' 
     'No, we are both residents.' 
     'Whichever. Our rights are equal.' 
     'Meaning?' 
     'Meaning I will not be making any major decisions without consulting you first.' 
     'But you have already done so.' 
     'If I had not taken the action I took, Mars would become an army base and you would have very little say in anything. At least now, you have an input.' 
     'You have changed, Marianne.' 
     'Yes, I have. But not necessarily toward you.' 
     'I am not sure whether or not to believe you.' 
     Marianne suddenly stood up. 'Have I ever lied to you?' 
     'Well...' 
     'Have I? Right from the start, you have attempted to manipulate me. You conditioned me without my permission. You deliberately lied about my ability to return to Earth. You tried to persuade Nicole to stay here when I specifically begged you not to. It is not I who has been dishonest, Kryn, it is you. And in spite of all this, I have risked my own life to protect you from the men who came determined to destroy you. Even now, no-one, except Nicole, knows of your existence.' 
     'You must have your reasons.' 
     'What possible reason could I have? I only had to mention you to the men who came and you would now be dead. I was hoping we could still work together on developing this planet for the benefit of both of us.' 
     'How could it benefit me?' 
     'You told me you just wanted companionship. Or was that a lie, too?' 
     'No, I like your company and that of your friend, Nicole. You are my only source of company.' 
     'How do I know that? How do I know that there are not dozens, hundreds, of you inside that structure, on other levels I have not been allowed to visit?' 
     'I have told you the truth. I am alone here.' 
     'Prove it. Show me these other levels.' 
     'Very well.' He seemed to pause. 'You once told me that your colleagues had a device which could destroy my home.' 
     'Yes, I still have that here. I could still use it.' 
     'You would threaten me with it?' 
     'I could not threaten you, Kryn. I would be no match for you.' 
     'But the device...' 
     'It could be detonated here.' 
     'That would not harm me if I was at Cydonia.' 
     Marianne smirked. 'Don't you believe it, matey. That thing has a range of several kilometres. If it was triggered from here, it may not destroy the structure entirely, but all life within that area would cease to exist.' 
     'Including my life?' 
     'Even your life, Kryn. It would destabilise every kind of barionic matter. Your invisibility would offer no protection.' 
     Neither of them spoke for several minutes until Marianne said; 'Why are we talking like this?' 
     'I was sure you had abandoned me.' 
     'You knew I was here.' 
     'I mean mentally.' 
     'No.' 
     'So what is your plan of action?' 
     'To keep watering the trees and the do some work on the canopy to make it more airtight. I might have to dig other wells in due course so I don't have to carry the water so far.' 
     'And you'd want my help again, like before?' 
     'Only if you want to give it. We were happy working together, weren't we?' 
     'I suppose so.' 
     She changed the subject. 'Tell me, where is the wreckage of your spacecraft? I haven't seen any trace of it while doing my surveys.' 
     'To the north,' he replied. 'It crashed into a deep ravine.' 
     Marianne knew from the Orbiter scans that, north of Marineris, there was a huge area literally criss-cross with chasms, some of them several kilometres deep. If his craft was in one of them, she was unlikely to stumble across it by accident, or find it with a detailed analysis. When the crew returned, she would get Orbiter II to do some low passes over the area. 
     'It must have been large,' she said. 
     'Large?' 
     'To carry you and all your colleagues. That would need a spaceship of immense dimensions.' 
     'What do you mean?' 
     'I came here, along with four others, in a spacecraft which was too large to be launched from Earth. To be large enough to carry ourselves and all our supplies, oxygen and fuel, it had be assembled in orbit. Even now, the Mars Lander, the bit that came down, is only a third of the actual vehicle. Orbiter had to stay up because it could never launch from Mars, even with the reduced gravity. A ship large enough for yourself and all your colleagues to come from Omicron, which is thousands of light years away, would have to have been gigantic. So where is it?' 
     'I told you, in a ravine.' 
     Marianne shook her head. 'The craft has to be as large as the structure you are living in.' 
     'Perhaps that is our craft.' 
     Marianne laughed. 'If you are about to fly across the galaxy, you build your spaceship out of duralumin or titanium, something strong but light. You do not make it out of solid rock. Anyway, I know where the structure came from and it wasn't outer space.' 
     'How do you know?' 
     'I may not be a geologist but I do have a computer which can make analyses for me. The rock at Cydonia came from an area south of the Tharsis ridge.' 
     'I admit that you are right, Marianne. In fact our craft was actually smaller than this base camp.' 
     She laughed. 'What was it? A Tardis?' 
     'I do not understand the concept.' 
     'It doesn't matter. Time and relative dimensions in space was a concept dreamed up forty years ago. It looked good on TV but didn't work in real life.' 
     'It seems that one day I am going to have to tell you the truth.' 
     Marianne smirked. 'It would be a novelty.' 
     'Would you rather I left you alone?' 
     'It's up to you. If you are not prepared to be totally honest with me, there can be little future to our relationship.' 
     'If I told you the truth now, you would not believe me.' 
     'I might. I prefer the truth that I don't like, to lies that I do like.' 
     'I understand that this is not necessarily true of all your people.' 
     'No, some only believe what they what to believe. Truth is how they see it, not necessarily how it really is.' 
     'What makes you different?' 
     'I have seen the trouble that lies and propaganda cause.' 
     'Have your colleagues worked out the purpose of the structure?' 
     'Not yet. They have not had access to the upper levels.' 
     Kryn paused for a moment. 'Would you like to see those levels?' 
     'How many are there?' 
     'There are five levels in all. One above the corridor and three below.' 
     'My god, like an iceberg.' 
     'Iceberg?' 
     'A concept unique to Earth. It is when water freezes and then floats on top of the liquid water. Specific gravity dictates that most of the iceberg is actually out of sight, under the surface.' 
     'Yes, that is a good analogy.' 
     'Will you show me those levels?' 
     'You may not like what you see.' 
     'Why not? What else have you not told me?' 
     Kryn was silent. 
     Marianne put down her welder and turned off the gas. 'Okay, lets go and take a look.' 
     'Now?' 
     She removed her faceguard and nodded. 'Now.' 
     The tractor was slower with the tanks fitted either side because their size prevented total manoeuvrability. But she still made the structure in under an hour and parked it at the foot of the ramp. Dismounting, she waited for Kryn to go in front of her and then she took the torch from the toolbox and followed. 
     It was the middle of the day and she was still taking certain precautionary measures with the threat from radiation and therefore was wearing her flight suit and baseball cap to protect most of her skin. Underneath, she was naked. 
     The interior was noticeably cooler as she bowed her head and followed Kryn into the wide corridor where she stopped dead in he tracks. Instead of the normal near darkness, the corridor was illuminated with a infra red glow and a steady hum seemed to vibrate the highly polished walls. She was led to the left where she found her way blocked by a wide flight of stairs which had never been there before. The light above was brighter and, for the first time, Marianne wished she had come armed with more that a flight suit. With her heart in her mouth, she ascended the rather large steps and found herself in a huge room. 
     'Welcome to Cydonia,' said the voice in her mind. A voice, she realised, that did not belong to Kryn. 
     As her eyes adjusted to the light, she realised that she was far from alone. The room contained no furniture except for a large table similar to those used in hospital operating theatres. Around the table were a dozen humanoid type men. Each was around eight feet tall and slim with a single outstanding feature with which she was ashamed to find fascinating. The Earth term "well hung" sprang to mind as they gathered around her. 
     'You have done well to entice her here,' the largest one said, presumably the leader. 'This creature is all that you promised.' 
     The words were obviously said to Kryn and Marianne turned to look at him, frowning. But he was backing away, his "head" bowed. She was rooted to the spot as he vanished down the stairway which then closed with a faint rumble. She turned back to the group of "men". 'So how many more surprises do I get?' 
     The leader smiled. 'A great many, my dear. You have been chosen to save a race from extinction.' 
     'Me?' she asked warily. 'How?' 
     'By producing children for us.' 
     She couldn't help laughing. 'Me? What about your own females?' 
     'We have no females. There is just ourselves.' 
     'So you are the last Martians, are you?' 
     'Not at all. We are from Omicron Cassiopaeia.' 
     She frowned. 'Like Kryn?' 
     He seemed to laugh. 'No, Kryn is a Martian.' 
     'I don't understand.' 
     'The one you call Kryn was here when we arrived. He was ruler of a race which had been here since the beginnings of time.' 
     'But he is alone.' 
     'When we...erased... his race, he and his mate were allowed to live and serve us.' 
     'His mate? But she is dead.' 
     'Not at all. We are unable to venture outside onto the Martian surface so they work for us.' 
     'So you are the interlopers. I suppose it was you who tortured the women I once saw.' 
     'Of course. But it was in the interests of science. We now know the way to survive.' 
     'Why are you only males?' 
     'Because we are outcasts from our own society. Our views towards our fellows were thought to be unconventional and antisocial so we were outlawed for merely raping and abusing women, something we are very good at. For hundreds of years, we have roamed the universe looking for suitable places to live. At last we have found it, right here on our doorstep.' 
     'On Mars?' 
     'No, my dear. On Earth.' 
     'On Earth? But if your precepts are so revolutionary, how do you expect to be accepted on Earth?' 
     'We will do as we have always done. We will eliminate the males and use the women for our pleasure.' 
     She counted. 'The twelve of you?' 
     'We have visited your planet many times over the last fifty years to view your defence systems and we know that our weapons are totally superior to your puny guns and missiles. However, you are right in one thing. Twelve is insufficient. We have calculated that we will need larger numbers to be certain of success. This where you come in.' 
     'Me?' 
     'You will produce our children.' 
     'Without bursting open?' 
     'We have experimented long and hard and have found a way to both reduce the term of your pregnancy to seven days and to guarantee four or five births each time. Each of us will impregnate you in turn and the children will be rejected within this period when they have grown to a kilogram each so as to preserve you for further implantations. The offspring will then be externally incubated to maturity. We have also found a way to reduce your ovarian cycle to a week so that the process can continue without interruption. Over the next year, you will produce over two hundred babies for us.' 
     She swallowed. 'Two hundred?' 
     'All the births will be female by genetic engineering so that we may use these young girls to further expand the population. Within two years, we will have enough power to enslave your people. Your men will work for us as Kryn does here and your females we will use to populate the universe.' 
     'So everything depends on me. What if I refuse?' 
     'You will not be given the luxury of choice.' 
     'And you believe that I can survive such abuse?' 
     'The pain and humiliation will be beyond your worst nightmares, but we will ensure that you live until we have a...replacement.' 
     'You mean Nicole?' 
     'Precisely.' 
     'And when is this all supposed to begin?' 
     'Immediately. Remove your flight suit please so that we may prepare you.' 
     She backed away. 'Get lost, pervert. I'd kill myself first.' 
     'I am afraid we would have to prevent that eventuality. If you do not agree to comply fully with our demands, you will be restrained at all times and fed intravenously if necessary.' 
     She was dragged towards the table and, despite kicking and screaming, they began to remove her flight suit. Suddenly there was a mighty explosion as the whole building shook. Marianne fell to the floor and the aliens went into a state of panic. In the midst of the confusion, the stairway opened again and Marianne took the hint and rolled toward it, jumping to her feet. Two aliens tried to stop her but Marianne was in livid mode and necks snapped before she went down the steps three at a time. At the bottom, the air was thick with acrid smoke and she fell over something lying on the floor. 
     The form groaned. 'Go, Marianne. Get out of here. Use your thermonuclear device if you have to.' 
     She stopped. 'Kryn, you're hurt.' 
     'I triggered one of your booby traps. Go, before they catch you again.' 
     'But I thought you were working with them.' 
     'Not voluntarily. They have my mate as a prisoner and threatened to torture and kill her.' 
     'Where is she?' 
     'On the level below this one.' 
     'Can you lead me there?' 
     'Not now. I cannot move. But don't worry, my recuperative powers can handle it. I will be fine in an hour or so.' 
     She heard the aliens coming and patted Kryn. 'I'll be back.'

THIRTY

The tractor started first time and she swung round, raising a cloud of dust and was surprised that she was not followed. The aliens, she therefore assumed, were unable to venture into the full glare of a Martian day. As she drove back at a frantic pace, she thought about what had happened and a lot of things began to make sense. Kryn had obviously seen her as a means of salvation but had also not wanted Earth to suffer as Mars and its population had. Hence the conditioning, the assistance in developing the base camp, the worry about her leaving. 
     She reached the stairlift, clipped a large clamp around the bumper of the tractor, and thumbed the button, pushing it to full speed up the cliff face. The sun was descending toward the horizon as she stepped into Lascelles Base and threw off her flight suit. Instead, she donned denims and tee shirt along with a lightweight flack jacket. The T-33, she stuck into her belt along with spare clip. She also carried a flare gun and one of the semi-automatic carbines the men had also left behind, screwing on a silencer the size of a rolling pin and stuffing spare clips of ammo into the pockets of her jacket. 
     Then she went to the stair lift and triggered the cargo pulley. In twenty minutes, it had hauled her tractor to the top of the cliff. Onto it, she loaded various items of equipment, one of them very carefully, before heading west along the level cliff top at a steady pace. She arrived at her night tent above Cydonia just as the sun set and, already, the temperature was dropping drastically. She had to get under cover quickly. But she had a choice. She could stay in the tent overnight and then attack in the morning, or carry on into the night and get inside the structure before the temperature plummeted below her endurance limit. Then, she remembered her promise to Kryn. She had no idea what kind of weaponry the aliens had at their disposal but it had been sufficiently lethal to wipe out an entire Martian race and to keep Kryn in perpetual fear. 
     From her tent, she collected her infra-red equipment and other things then, with teeth chattering, lowered several items down the cliff to the rim of Cydonia before abseiling down herself. In the pitch dark, she unclipped the lid of a cylindrical object and tapped in numbers. Sweating profusely despite the cold, she carefully lowered the device down inside the inside of the hole. 
     She stopped at what she estimated to be the level where she had been taken to the aliens and tied off the ropes to pegs hammered into the sandstone alongside the structure. Then, she carefully leaned over the edge and, using her infra-red scope, located the various levels below that. She assumed that the aliens would be watching the main entrance and would almost certainly not expect any activity from her before morning. 
     Looping the semi-automatic over her shoulder, she descended inside, stopping from time-to-time to check her position relative to the device and the various windows. After ten minutes, she approached the level of the aliens and was astounded. Huge shapes hung motionless inside the hole, some complete, others under construction. She tried to assess the number of these alien spacecraft, not unlike flying saucers in shape, but lost count at a hundred. 
     Carefully, she adjusted the height of the device before pressing more buttons and releasing the lock on the plutonium trigger. She then continued to descend and, minutes later, was at the level accessible from outside. Instead of stopping there, she carried on down and located another set of windows below. Then, she heard it. It was a weird sound which made her swallow and fight back tears. It was clearly in her mind and the pitiful sound had to be either Kryn or his mate. The temperature got warmer as she descended and eventually she located the window from whence the noise came. 
     The red light inside was dim but by means of it, she could clearly see Kryn and a similar creature in one corner with two aliens carrying some kind of electromagnetic weapon which was causing them pain. Quietly, Marianne, unlooped her semi-automatic and took it in her right hand, thumbing off the safety-catch. She was by no means an expert in armed combat so she switched the gun to rapid fire to be sure of hitting something. She then hung onto the rope with her other hand and, bouncing lightly in her trainers on the interior wall, she propelled herself outwards and sideways, on the return swing literally flying in through the open window aperture. 
     As soon as her feet touched the floor, she crouched and opened fire. The aliens were tough and it took several dozen soft-nosed bullets to bring them down. She didn't know if she had actually killed them because there was no obvious sign of either blood or injury. She guessed that a human body would have been irrevocably shredded by such intense gunfire, whereas these seemed to be merely stunned. 
     'Kryn,' she whispered aloud without thinking. 'Are you badly hurt? Can you move?' 
     'Marianne?' came the voice in her head. 'You shouldn't be here. They will bring you more horror than you can possibly imagine.' 
     'Over my dead body,' she said, grinning. 'Is this your mate?' 
     'I am Dorin,' said a different voice in her head. 'Are you the one Kryn has told me about? The human?' 
     'I'm afraid so. Now we have to get out of here. This place is about to overheat.' 
     'I am still a little weak,' said Kryn. 'I am not sure if I can make it.' 
     'You can and will,' replied Marianne brusquely. 'Give me a couple of minutes and then head for the door and, whatever happens, don't look back. Get to the valley below my camp and shelter behind rocks.' 
     'I will try.' 
     'You will succeed. Help each other. Get the hell out of here, we don't have much time.' 
     'You are coming, too?' 
     'Of course. I will be right behind you.' 
     Marianne looked outside the door and saw the passageway was clear. She waved them out and the two Martians helped each other up a ramp and towards the door while Marianne covered their retreat. When she was sure they would be out in the open, she headed on tiptoe towards the other stairway ramp. The area above was lit as before and she crept silently up the steps. The aliens were clearly arguing about the best course of action to take when she reached the top and straightened with a smile on her face. 'Hi, fellers.' 
     Silence suddenly descended on the room as they all stared down her silencer. 
     'You will regret this intrusion with your puny weapon,' said the leader. 
     'Possibly, but you are finished here.' 
     At her last word, she noticed a movement in the eye of one of the aliens. In a lightning reaction, she leapt sideways and a bright electronic charge snaked out from behind her, leaving a bright blue vapour trail on the thin atmosphere. The aliens she had "shot" had recovered. Her stock went backward, catching the alien under the chin and he fell back down the stairs. Without further thought, she opened fire, aiming not at the aliens themselves but at their equipment, shattering glassware and splintering various breakable items. When the clip was empty, she tugged out the flare gun and fired it into their midst. It exploded on impact and showered them all with lighted fuel making screams of agony bombard her ears. She rammed in another clip and, keeping her finger on the trigger of her machine carbine, she sprayed bullets around the room. She had to give Kryn and Dorin chance to get away. 
     The hit aliens bounced back but she kept on firing and it eventually began to have an effect, albeit temporarily. When the magazine was empty again, she threw the useless weapon at them and leapt down the stairs. The alien below made a grab for her legs but she turned on her heel and kicked out with all her strength and the alien was spun right round with the force. 
     As she ran with head down along the corridor, she heard the feet behind her, gaining on her. Shrugging out of her flack jacket, still containing several clips of ammo and a couple of flare cartidges, she dropped it in the corridor and fired another Very canister over her shoulder. The burst of the flare in the confined space of the corridor set off the ammo and spare flares and totally halted them. As she saw the doorway ahead, she began to undo the strap around her wrist. The "watch" was a remote trigger designed to set off the plutonium detonator ten minutes after her pulse stopped. She burst out into the freezing night and threw the strap as far as she could away from her. The device she had left in the hole would interpret this as her death. Already, it was too late. There was no going back. 
     Literally, she ran for her life across the rugged terrain, the valley lit by the faint glow from the stars and twin moons. Several times, she stumbled and almost fell, her feet pounding on the surface of the valley bottom. She knew that most of the blast would be concentrated within the central core and getting just a few kilometres away could save her life but she was taking no chances. A bleeping came from her real watch and she knew her time was up. Rounding the last corner before the stairlift, she heard the whining behind her. 
     In a swift glance over her shoulder, she saw the flying saucers ascending from the top of the funnel, escaping. But then, just as they cleared the rim, the whole sky was lit up by a huge flash and she threw herself to the ground, rolling into a slight depression. It was several seconds before the sound came, accompanied by a blast which shook the ground and moved huge rocks around her. The fireball followed right after it and swept right over her as she lay with her hands over her head. 
     Long after all the noise and light had subsided, she felt movement around her and she was helped to sit up. 'That was a very brave thing to do, Marianne.' 
     She shook the fuzziness from her head. 'It had to be done.' 
     'Stop talking, Kryn,' said Dorin. 'Can't you see that the child is cold. We need to get her to the camp you spoke about.' 
     The three of them helped each other to the chairlift and brought it down, eventually making their way painfully slowly back up the cliff face. Marianne had to be carried the last few metres and into Lascelles Base. Inside, they Martians placed her into her insulated cylinder and lay their own bodies over her to keep her alive during the long cold night.

EPILOGUE

Marianne woke to bright sunlight and warmth. Kryn and Dorin were sitting on the floor nearby in a manner which she interpreted as holding hands. She sat bolt upright. 'The aliens!' 
     'They are all dead,' replied Kryn. 'We would like to thank you for everything you have done for us. And I would also like to apologise for having to deceive you.' 
     Marianne smiled. 'I understand the need you had. What of the structure?' 
     'There is virtually nothing left but rubble. Your weapon was extremely powerful. We would not stand a chance if your people invaded Mars.' 
     Marianne shook her head. 'This will not be allowed to happen. Everything has changed now.' 
     'Changed?' 
     'Of course. You are the real Martians. This is your home. We humans are just visitors here, and exploration can continue only with your full approval.' 
     'You are always welcome,' said Dorin. 'You may stay freely as long as you wish.' 
     'And my people?' 
     'They are welcome on one condition.' 
     'Yes?' 
     'That you remain the ambassador, the representative.' 
     'I would gladly do that.' 
     'Nicole will return here?' asked Kryn. 
     Marianne nodded. 'In a few months. But I can cancel the landing if you prefer.' 
     'No, she must come and meet Dorin. If she had not brought you in the first place, we would have no future.' 
     'And neither would Earth if they had invaded.' Marianne paused. 'We must celebrate this as the first interplanetary union.' 
     'Yes, and without fear of invasion, at least from each other. But you and your colleagues must continue your work here. As you quite rightly say, we are the natural Martians. However, the Valley Marineris will henceforth become an Earth colony. You may use it and its wealth in any way you wish.' 
     'Thank you. The weapon I used was categorised as clean so any radiation should dissipate within a few hours. We have work to do rebuilding the canopies which will likely have been flattened.' 
     'That is good. Who will come back with Nicole? Do you know?' 
     Marianne smiled. 'I have a pretty good idea.' 
     'And this would be pleasing to you?' 
     She nodded. 'Very pleasing?' 
     'You would let them make babies with you?' 
     Marianne remembered their earlier conversations about what the men thought about. 'Just one of them. Nicole may wish to make babies with the other one.' 
     'So this is a happy ending.' 
     'More like a happy beginning,' said Marianne, laughing. 'So tell me, where will you live?' 
     'We would like to stay here and help you for a while, if we may. After that, when Nicole arrives, we would go home.' 
     'Home?' 
     'We still have our original dwelling near Tharsis Ridge. It will need some work, but it is our home.' 
     'It would be my privelege to help you to restore it.' 
     'Thank you. Your assistance would be most welcome.' 
     She looked from one to the other. 'Excuse me asking a personal question, but can you...er....make babies?' 
     'Of course. But overpopulation will not be a concern to any of us for many millennia. The surface area of our planet is larger than the entire land area of your Earth. There will be room for anyone who visits here. Everybody is welcome.' 
     Marianne grinned. 'Unless they happen to come from Omicron Cassiopeia.'