“But by our hundredth day on Mars, Terra Cimmeria had proven frustrating and disappointing. It wasn’t even that we had negative data to report, just no statistically valid conclusions either way. The magnetic stripes didn’t conform exactly to any of the three standard tectonic models; but they didn’t vary far enough to disprove any of the models, either, nor enough to choose between them. All our data really told us was we would need a lot more data. In the same way, the carbonate deposits were largely albedo spectres; and what deposits we did find were too small, too dispersed for us to make much sense of. They could’ve been remnants of ancient biotics, but they could just be natural mineral phenomena.”

  I managed not to stare, but I was surprised. Tracy had never shown much science knowledge before. Oh, she had always been smart, but she had concentrated on filmmaking and project management. She was an artist, not a researcher, and Azevedo had hired her for her video skills. Somehow in the past four years she had developed a whole new side to her.

  Tracy continued, “So the Professor decided to make the trek to Chronius Mons. He … Well, it might be easier if I just played back my journal.”

  Tracy tapped her sleeve comp, and a strange voice emerged. It was almost recognizable, but pitched to a high octave like a cartoon character. “Azevedo Expedition Journal, Day 106. Videographer Wells reporting. After considering my advice—refer variance report 104-27w—Professor Azevedo has filed a revised exploration plan for a two-day hike to Chronius Mons. He believes we may find—”

  “Stop!” Nick shouted, and Tracy paused the log. “Enough with the chipmunk log!”

  “I’m sorry,” Tracy said, “I don’t even notice it any more. After five months of breathing heliox, I speak ‘chipmunk’ fluently.” To reduce payload mass, Azevedo’s team had brought a helium-oxygen breathing gas mix rather than standard air. It massed only one-third as much, but it had the unfortunate side effect of raising human voices by an octave or more due to the thinner gas. We didn’t bother with it on the Aldrin, since our orbit required almost zero fuel to maintain; but the choice had made a huge impact on Azevedo’s mass budget.

  “Well, I hate heliox,” Nick said. “For the sake of my ears, I’d like you to summarize. We can skip the journals.”

  “If I have to do a lot of talking, can I get some water? I got spoiled by the heliox, it’s easier to breathe. I’m still readjusting to normal air. My throat always seems dry.”

  Nick looked at me. “Carver, fetch the lady some water.” I went to the sink in the corner, poured a glass, and brought it to Tracy. Our fingers touched briefly as she took the glass. I managed to keep my hand from trembling.

  Tracy took a drink, and then she resumed. “With the carbonates disappointing and the plate tectonics inconclusive, Professor Azevedo didn’t have much to show for the expedition. So he announced a new mission objective. I told him that was clearly outside of all protocols; but he overruled my objections, as usual, and said we had plenty of safety margin for a trek to Chronius Mons. He said we had spectroscopic evidence of significant and unusual phosphorus outcroppings on the upper slopes. We had no particular theory to test, no reason for scouting for phosphorus. It was data gathering and grandstanding, nothing more. And the spectroscopic assay was far from conclusive, as I told him.”

  “Oh? And when did you get a degree in chemistry?”

  Nick’s question had been mocking, so Tracy’s answer surprised him as well as me. “I started the program during mission training, and then I got my degree on the trip out on the Collins. I had to do something to fill my spare time.” She glanced in my direction, then looked back to Nick. “Anson always told me how important it is for expedition members to cross train so that critical skills have backups. ‘Videographer’ isn’t a critical mission skill, even if the Professor saw it as such; but a grounding in chemistry made me a backup for a number of personnel.”

  I actually saw Nick nod at Tracy’s answer. That was as close to praise as she was likely to get.

  When Tracy realized Nick had nothing to say, she continued. “So Professor Azevedo insisted on Chronius Mons. In truth, I think he was looking for challenge and adventure. He kept talking about scaling the highest point on the Terra and the great panoramas I could film from up there. He wanted something that would make great publicity. This wasn’t really for the scientists, it was all for the money folks and the media back home.

  “He also insisted that we could hike the distance in two days and make the climb in two more, rather than risk a lander flight in the questionable winds. We had no ground vehicles, so it was hike or fly or stay at the camp; and he wouldn’t consider the last two choices.

  “Professor Azevedo selected Lieutenant Gale and Dr. Ivanovitch for the hike, and also myself to record it. Gale selected himself, really: as Astronaut Corps Liaison, he had supervisory authority over any trip outside the bounds of the camp. He didn’t always exercise that authority, but he insisted for that trip. Margo also insisted on coming, and the Professor wasn’t inclined to say no to his wife—especially since she financed much of the expedition.

  “We loaded up sledges with supplies. I personally prepared the equipment plan, but then was overruled time and again by the Professor and Gale. Still, I think we were adequately prepared when we left. We had three Mars tents—”

  Nick’s eyebrow raised. “Three tents? For five people?”

  “I know, protocols call for two: a primary for all of us, and a backup. But again, I was overruled. We also had food, water, tanks of heliox, spare clothes, comm gear, spare clothes, the doctor’s med kit, a telescope, a microscope, shovels, sample bags, pitons, hammers, plenty of S3 cable, computers, a satellite locator, flare guns, an emergency beacon, a chemical mini lab, a mineralogical kit, videography gear, suit repair kits.

  “Despite the frequent stops for photo ops, the hike to the mountain went quickly, and it was pretty uneventful. Even pulling the loaded sledges, it was light work in the Martian gravity. We walked all day and set up camp, two nights in a row as scheduled. Inevitably Dr. Ivanovitch broke out his vodka. I had long since given up fighting that, and he was too professional to drink to excess when he was the sole medic on that trip. But I had to nag him and Gale to see to equipment maintenance before they started drinking each night.”

  “And did they?”

  “See the reports, here. I didn’t have the opportunity to inspect the gear stored in the other two tents. I encouraged the others to do standard inspections. As you can see, the inspections were spotty; but in aggregate, most of the gear was covered. Except…” She paused and pointed.

  “Except the Professor’s climbing gear, including the S3 cables.”

  “Mmmhmmm. It hadn’t been unpacked since we left Earth, so he saw no need to inspect that.

  “And then we reached the mountain. Chronius Mons, the highest peak in that quadrant. We had done mountaineering training in Peru, all in full Mars suits. The mountain was tall, but it looked like only an average difficulty climb, and even less thanks to the gravity. And I’ll give the team credit: while they were lax on most mission protocols, they took the climb seriously. They tested every handhold, double checked every piton. And so … it came as a complete shock to me … when…” Tracy stopped, her face anguished. Old instincts kicked in, and I wanted to comfort her; but before I had to decide whether to follow those instincts, she gathered her strength and continued. “Professor Azevedo’s cable snapped. Any one of us could’ve been on that cable at that time, but it happened to be him. He … fell. He fell so slowly in the Martian gravity. He had plenty of time to cry out for help. But even on Mars, three-hundred feet is … too far. His cries ended in a sickening crunch before his suit comm cut out.

  “Margo wanted to rush down to him, and it was all we could do to restrain her so we didn’t end up with another casualty. Carefully we rappelled and climbed down to him, taking nearly five minutes. Thanks to his suit’s automatic seals and med systems, he was still alive; but the doctor shook his head. He said the Professor needed emergency surgery immediately.

  “And that just wasn’t possible. We had to descend another hundred feet to a ledge large enough to set up a Mars tent. Despite our best efforts, the climb inflicted further injuries. Then we had to set up the tent, pressurize it, and get the Professor out of his suit. Dr. Ivanovitch set up for emergency surgery, and Gale and I assisted. The doctor gave his best effort, but it was far too late.” Tracy swallowed drily. “The Professor died twenty minutes after the start of surgery. He had never really stood a chance.”

  I was … puzzled. Puzzled but impressed. The old Tracy would often be overwhelmed by her empathy. Sometimes I thought she used the camera to put up a layer between her and the suffering she observed. But now … Now she was distraught, but she reported the incident in full, maintaining her composure for the most part. She had grown stronger—but not, I hoped, less empathetic.

  As I thought on this, Tracy continued. “With the Professor dead, Gale assumed command. Oh, Margo might have contested that if she had tried, but she was in no shape to make any decisions. We bundled the Professor back into his suit for transport, and Gale led us back down the slope. There we had to rest for another night. We were physically and emotionally spent. The next day we double-timed it back to the camp.

  “The rest is in my reports over the remaining month and a half until your pickup. We did our best to continue exploration and sampling, trying to salvage what we could for our objectives. Margo slowly regained enough energy to argue about who was in charge of the expedition. Legally she had the stronger case, but Gale kept arguing that we needed a professional in charge.”

  Nick nodded. “You did. Too bad all you had was Gale.”

  Tracy almost smiled at that. “The camp was pretty small, so their arguments made the place very unpleasant, with different members of the expedition lining up with her or with him. Dr. Ivanovitch and I eventually managed to calm things down by appealing to Azevedo’s memory. His personality had united the expedition in the first place, and it was enough in the end to keep us alive until you arrived. The rest is in my reports.”

  Tracy took one last drink of water and then set her glass down on Nick’s desk. “So that’s my summary. Is that what you need?”

  “Yes, if you’ve told me the whole story, then we’re done here.

  “I wouldn’t keep anything secret. That’s against mission protocols.”

  “Ms. Wells, I have learned in my command career that people keep all sorts of things secret when they’re trying to protect their own careers and their own reputations. If they have a guilty conscience or they think perhaps they contributed to some mistake, they keep secrets, and they lie. I’ve learned to ferret out details that people would rather hide. I won’t be lied to on my ship.”

  “You will find that my reports are complete in every detail, and as factual as I could make them. I did everything I could, but I lacked the authority to override Professor Azevedo’s decisions.”

  Nick looked over his comp. “I wouldn’t have expected it, but it does seem that way. So considering everything, I have to say that perhaps your training wasn’t wasted. You mastered the protocols, which is more than I can say for your leadership.”

  Tracy stared blankly at Nick. I did as well. He had just come very close to complimenting her, at least by Nick’s standards.

  But she quickly recovered. “Then if you don’t mind, I still have videos to edit before we get to Earth.” Tracy stood to leave, but she stopped and turned at the door. “Goodbye, Anson.” And then she left.

  After Tracy was gone, I turned on Nick. “You never once asked her about the cable and the nanos! The … the murder!”

  “I didn’t need to.”

  “What?”

  “I heard what I needed to hear. Now I know the basic outline of the trip and Azevedo’s death: who was present, what their roles were, and so on. I’ll talk to her again later if I need more details.”

  I knew better than to push Nick. He would keep his secrets until he saw a need to reveal them. Besides, I had something else on my mind. I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking: “Did you have to be so hard on her?”

  “Yes, Mr. Carver, I did. I have my reasons.”

  “And you had to drag me into it? What was the point of that?”

  “Carver, I am conducting a criminal investigation. Didn’t you ever read mysteries? Means, motive, opportunity: those are the classic requirements for solving a crime, and a key part of that is motives. I have to understand the people involved and what drives them. So I had to know where she stood in regards to you and in regards to that expedition. I had to know everything about her.”

  I was in no mood to be mollified. “You just can’t resist picking at old wounds, can you?”

  “Your wounds or hers? I’m not convinced she has any.”

  “What did she do to deserve that?”

  “What did she do? You ought to remember! Are you going to let her do this to you again?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You are! You’re going to let her just use you for whatever it is she’s up to: chew you up, spit you out, and leave you crying in your beer. Again!”

  “It’s not like that!”

  “It’s always like that!”

  “Look, just because your wife and your kids aren’t talking to you any more doesn’t mean it’s like that for everyone!”

  “It was last time!”

  “It wasn’t like that last time, either. Relationships just sometimes … They just sometimes end!”

  “Yep, it ended when she got what she wanted.”

  “That’s not fair! She had the chance to go to Mars, and she took it! I did the same thing when I had the chance. I can’t blame her for that.”

  “Uh-huh. You went with me. She went with Azevedo, and now he’s dead. That was mighty poor judgment on her part. She’s lucky she’s still alive.”

  “That’s not fair! You heard her. She studied! She learned your mission protocols. She did everything possible to ensure the success of that expedition.”

  “Hmmm … Yes, she did, didn’t she? I have to admit, that surprised me. A chemistry degree? Surprising, yes.”

  Nick sat in silence, clasping his hands and staring at his fingers. I realized he had gotten to me again. He always probed for weakness, always had to know where someone might fail him. I stood, fuming but patient, determined not to give in to his testing.

  At last Nick looked up. “All right, Ms. Wells has given her report, and that’s a start. But I need another perspective. Carver, express my condolences, but bring me Margo Azevedo.”

  * * *

  I found Mrs. Azevedo alone in her cabin. She had it to herself, a luxury we normally couldn’t spare even for important passengers such as her. But on this trip, I had triple-berthed some junior crew to open up a private cabin for her. I figured she deserved some solitude if she needed it. The ship might be too damned crowded for her otherwise.

  When I signaled the door, it took Mrs. Azevedo almost a minute to open it. She was a tall, dark-toned woman with dark hair that showed some gray. In her pre-mission photos there had been no gray, but hair dye was just another luxury not to be found on Mars. Despite the gray, she still looked much like the fashion model she had been in her youth, back before she turned her earnings into shrewd business investments and a major fortune.

  Her once elegant face was lined with grief. She wasn’t red-eyed from crying like she had been earlier in the voyage. Five months of travel from Mars had gotten her past the deepest grief. But she still looked very weary, and I felt guilty for having to disturb her. But guilty feeling or no, Nick had his reasons and I had my orders.

  Mrs. Azevedo summoned the energy to speak. “Yes, Chief Carver, can I help you?”

  “Begging your pardon, ma’am. I hate to disturb you, but I have orders from the Captain. He has sent me to request that you come to his office. He has some matters to discuss.”

  “What … What’s it about?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m not at liberty to comment on the Captain’s business.” That was a lie, of course, but I didn’t want to explain to her that someone had killed her husband. And I didn’t want to even consider that she might be a suspect. But as we walked through the ship, I realized I had an obligation to prepare her for Nick’s investigation. “Ma’am, you know that Captain Aames can be a bit … brusque.”

  “‘Brusque’ hardly goes far enough.”

  “Ma’am, I don’t think you understand.”

  “Please, Chief, don’t treat me like a china doll. This is a rough time for me, but believe me, I’ll get by. I’ve been making my fortune the hard way since before you were born: first on the fashion runways, and then on the spaceplane runways. And I saw plenty of ugly corporate battles in between, I survived all of them, and I triumphed. I’ve faced opponents far ruder than Captain Aames.”

  Despite myself, I grinned. “There’s no one ruder than Captain Aames.”

  She laughed; and for a moment I saw the charm she had used to win backing for this expedition. “Nick Aames can be a smug, self-righteous asshole, no doubt. I appreciate your concern. But don’t worry. I’ve handled Nick before, and I can handle him today.”

  “Of course.” I knew the basics, so she didn’t have to explain; but she seemed to need to talk, like the silence was too much for her.

  “Nick was … Paolo’s first choice for the Astronaut Corps Liaison for our expedition. I thought it was a done deal, but Nick and Paolo couldn’t agree on terms. Nick insisted on rewriting the entire mission plan to his exacting standards.”

  I nodded. “The Captain would do that.”

  “But his standards … were too exacting. Too much redundancy, too much expense. Paolo wanted a streamlined mission—still a safe mission!—so that we could keep to an affordable budget. He said a mission to Nick’s standards would never get launched; and Nick said that was fine with him, and he hoped Paolo’s mission would never launch, either. He said the Civilian Exploration Program couldn’t afford to have its first expedition go wrong, and that that would undermine support for the program. And now … I fear he’ll be proven correct.” Her face darkened, and I looked discreetly away. “Nick stormed out that day, and we had to hire Lieutenant Gale instead. Gale is a fine officer, and he gave us none of Nick’s troubles. But rest assured, I know Nick’s moods, and I’m ready for him.”