Chapter 29

[Saturday 13 Feb 2010 - Somewhere north of Mars Base, 1611 hours] 

"Um..." David stammered, trying hard not to stare directly down the barrel of the weapon being aimed at his face. "Would you mind pointing that thing someplace else? Please?" 

The stranger seemed to relax - slightly. "You're no alien." 

"I coulda told you that." David replied. "And saved you the trouble of scaring the piss out of me." 

The stranger chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose so." He holstered the weapon. "Sorry 'bout that, but I had to be sure." 

David sank to his knees as the adrenaline rush began wearing off. "I understand, I think." he admitted. Motioning behind him, towards the wrecked Valkyrie, David asked, "Yours?" 

The stranger laughed. "Me? A pilot? Hell, do I look that crazy to you?" He shook his head. "No, I'm just a glorified truck driver who's temporarily on loan to the Requisitions and Supply department." He thrust out his hand. "Name's Gonzo." 

David blinked, then took his hand and shook it. "Gonzo?" 

"Short for Gonzales. Juan Gonzales. My friends call me Gonzo." He shrugged. "Beats being called 'Speedy.' I know far too many people with the last name of Gonzales bearing that nickname." 

David smiled at that. "I bet you do. Name's David Marshall. I'm with Black Squadron, or at least I was." 

"A pilot?" 

David sighed. "Not a very good one, apparently." He climbed back to his feet. "You got anyplace to stay, Gonzo?" 

Gonzo shrugged. "Not really. Been scrounging parts and stuff, hoping to find a radio or something to contact the SDF-1 and get me off this dustball." 

"Be glad you didn't." David muttered. "Else you might've wound up like this poor guy." He kicked a chunk of wreckage. 

Gonzo nodded slowly. "He come to rescue you?" 

"That was the idea. Aliens had different plans, tho." David sighed, then turned his mind back to the task at hand. "How'd you like to shack up with my and my wingman? At least until we can figure a way out of here?" 

"Your wingman?" Gonzo laughed. "How many of you are stranded down here? An entire squadron?" 

David smiled. "Just the three of us, I hope. At least, I haven't found anybody else. So, you up for it?" 

"He doesn't snore, does he?" 

"No, she doesn't." David answered. 

"Oh. I see." 

"I thought you would." David chuckled. "You up for a walk?" 

"Nah, but I am up for a drive." Gonzo held up a small silver key. "How 'bout you?" 

"You're kidding." 

"Nope. I told you I was a truck driver." Gonzo motioned off to the left. "I got it parked over there." 

David shook his head in amazement. "Well, lead on. Lead on." 


[Saturday 13 Feb 2010 - Somewhere north of Mars Base, 1639 hours] 

Gonzo's truck turned out to be a fire-gutted jeep. The dashboard was riddled with jagged holes and smeared with a brownish stain that David didn't enquire about. The rear half of the jeep was missing, the back tires exposed beneath the ragged mess. 

As they jounced along the Martian landscape, David spent most of his time scanning the horizon for any sign of alien activity. Gonzo didn't seem to mind his silence and chattered amicably, going into great detail about his family and friends, his life, his hobbies, and anything else that came to mind. 

"...that I would wind up in the belly of a spaceship out near Pluto, I woulda told them they were nuts!" Gonzo waggled a finger at David. "Know what I mean?" 

David nodded absently. "This thing isn't gonna run out of gas on us, is it?" 

"'Course not. Got one of them alien fuel cells in it. Good for a couple of weeks use, at least. At least, that's what they tell me." 

"Good." David replied, examining the landscape for the building he and Lauren had been using as a hiding place. "Ah! There it is." He pointed. "See that building over there?" 

Gonzo peered in the general direction. "No. No, I- wait. Yeah, yeah, I see it. That the place?" 

"Sure is. Think you can get us there in one piece?" 

"Hey! I got you this far, didn't I?" Gonzo smiled at him. "Or would you prefer to walk?" 

"Just checking." David replied. He turned his attention to the building as Gonzo drove towards it, looking for any signs of new damage. To his relief, there were none. The windows appeared to have been boarded up from the inside, and the door had been closed . If he didn't know any better, he would have thought the building deserted. 

The jeep pulled to a stop and David climbed out. "Lauren! Lauren, you here?" He waited a moment. "Lauren?" 

Gonzo had his handgun out. "Where's she at?" 

David frowned, suddenly uneasy. "I don't know. She should be here... couldn't have gotten far on a broken leg, crutches or no." He arjusted his suit radio. "Lauren? Can you hear me?" 

There was a crackle of static, and he heard her voice. Faint, but recognizable. "David? David, is that you?" 

"Of course. I told you I'd be back." He smiled. "Where are you?" 

"Inside." she replied, her voice quavering. "David, I think my leg's getting worse." 

David shot Gonzo a glance. "I'll be right in. I've brought some company, so don't shoot, okay?" He walked over to the door. 

"Did you contact the SDF-1?" she asked, her voice brightening. 

"No, but I found another survivor. I'll let him introduce himself later." David pulled open the door. "I'm coming in." 


[Saturday 13 Feb 2010 - Somewhere north of Mars Base, 1710 hours] 

Lauren sighed, her gaze flicking back and forth between the two men. "It's bad, isn't it?" 

David hesitated. "I'm no doctor, Lauren..." he began. 

"David." she warned. "Don't get all noble on me. I want it straight." 

He nodded slowly. "It's bad. I think it's infected." 

Lauren seemed to sink into herself. "That's what I figured." 

Gonzo cleared his throat. "I hate to point out the obvious, but if it is infected, we need to get her back to the ship." 

"Any suggestions on how we do that?" David asked tiredly, dropping to the floor. He pulled himself into a yoga-like position, nursing his left arm as he did so. "I'm all out of ideas." 

"What with the aliens out there tracking down beacons, we'd need to find some other way to contact the ship." Gonzo replied. "Maybe some sort of signal flare?" 

"We have a flare pistol." Lauren pointed out. 

David sighed. "Never get it high enough for them to see. Not unless a patrol came down close enough." He frowned. "If I were Gloval, I wouldn't risk any patrols in such a hostile environment. Especially not considering what they've been up to." 

Lauren patted the air cylinder beside her. "What if we made a missile out of one of these? Would it make it?" 

Gonzo tapped his foot idly. "I don't think so. There's no way to aim it. Without fins or some sort of wing to stabilize it, we might wind up blowing our own heads off." 

"I agree." David mused. "No, we need to find some way to contact the ship that can't be intercepted, or at least not very quickly. The longer we can keep the aliens from finding us, the better our chances are." 

"I can't argue with that." Lauren agreed. "If we have to, could we use my beacon?" 

Gonzo reached over and picked up the cracked device. "I thought you said this thing was broken?" 

David shrugged. "It is. I can try and fix it, if need be. I'd prefer another option, tho." 

"Wouldn't we all." Gonzo added. "Wouldn't we all." 

Climbing back to his feet, David sighed. "I'm going out to stretch my legs and think. Let me know if you come up with anything." 

"Sure thing, David." Lauren responded. "Just don't forget to come back." 

"Who, me?" He clutched his chest. "You wound me, girl. Such a lack of faith!" 

"Yeah, right." Lauren drawled. 

David walked over to the door. "Don't worry, I'll be back." 


[Saturday 13 Feb 2010 - Somewhere north of Mars Base, 2040 hours] 

David jerked upright, his breath catching in his throat, pain shooting through his arm. "What the...?" 

"Whoa, fella. Sorry I startled you!" Gonzo said quickly, hands help up defensively. "I thought you heard me the first time." 

David blinked, holding up a fistful of heat-reflective blanket. <What? Damn, must've dozed off.> "Sorry. Guess I didn't hear you." He glanced around, unable to see more than ten meters in the gloomy darkness. "Must've fallen asleep." 

"We kinda figured that." Gonzo replied. "Lauren thought it best to let you rest a while." 

David pointed to the silvery blanket draped over his legs. "I know I didn't bring this out with me." 

Gonzo shrugged. "She insisted I cover you up. She's a very... um... a very forceful woman." 

David smiled. "She can be. So, what did you need?" 

"Nothing important." Gonzo replied. "We were getting ready to hit the sack..." 

"Ah, I see." He chuckled. "Thanks for not forgetting about me." 

"No problem." Gonzo stared upwards. "Do you honestly think we have a chance? Of getting back, I mean." 

David followed his gaze to the star-studded sky. "I have no doubt." he answered confidently. "No doubt at all." 

Gonzo nodded sagely. "Just thought I'd check." 

David smiled. "C'mon, let's not keep the lady waiting." 


[Sunday 14 Feb 2010 - Somewhere north of Mars Base, 0840 hours] 

David awoke to a low moaning. He blinked away the cloudiness in his vision, wrinkled his nose at the stench of his own breath, and coughed against the cracked dryness in his throat. 

Turning his head to the side, David saw Gonzo kneeling beside Lauren, his hands gently running up and down her broken leg. His searching fingers elicited strained moans from her. Gonzo sat back on his haunches, caught sight of David watching him, and nodded towards the far end of the room. "She's in and out." he explained. "Let's talk." 

David took the hint and climbed to his feet. He and Gonzo walked over to the far corner of the room. His first attempt at speaking came out as little more than a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Not good?" David said gravelly, more a statement than a question. 

Gonzo sighed. "Not good at all. I can't be certain, but I think the infection's spreading. She's drifting in and out of consciousness. Leg feels swollen - as far as I can tell, at least, what with that suit on." 

David shook his head slowly, an oppressive weight settling itself over him. He recalled a combat first aid class he had attended during basic training... the memories weren't comforting. "I guess this clinches it. We've got to get off this planet, now, and get her help." 

"But how?" Gonzo asked. "We went over this last night. How can we send a signal that the aliens won't track right back to us?" 

"I've been wondering about that myself." David gazed pointedly at the door. "If I can get that beacon working, we can put it in your truck and transmit from a remote location..." 

"And the aliens will come right to you. And any rescue teams, I might add." Gonzo paused, thinking. "Unless you've got some sort of secret code that I don't know about?" 

David smiled. "Something like that. You know Morse?" 

"Morse?" Gonzo asked slowly. "Morse what? Waittaminute... Morse code? You're kidding! Nobody uses that any more!" 

David held up a finger. "Nobody but naval pilots and communications officers. It's part of the training." He hesitated. "At least it used to be." 

"The pilot program has been accelerated, hasn't it?" 

"It has... but it's not a pilot I'm thinking about." He smiled at Gonzo's questioning gaze. "C'mon. I'll tell you about it while I tear that beacon apart." 


[Sunday 14 Feb 2010 - Somewhere north of Mars Base, 1130 hours] 

"So, what do you think?" 

David gazed down at the electronic innards of the beacon. "I think this is going to take longer than I thought." 

Gonzo groaned. "How much longer?" 

David fingered a capacitor, which had been shaken loose from the main circuit board. "You want an honest answer to that?" 

"No." Gonzo replied slowly. "But can you fix it?" 

David thought for several moments, weighing his options. "I think so. But, like I said, it'll take time." He held up his hands. "These flight gloves aren't suited for delicate work. And my shoulder's dislocated, I think. Gonna be tough. But I can manage." 

"Okay." Gonzo heaved a strained sigh. "Now, about this 'Sammy' person you're hoping to contact?" 

David grimaced. "Well, I'm not all that thrilled with the idea, either, but she is part of the communications team." He paused. "And she knows Morse code." <If she remembers it...> he added silently. 

"You trust her enough to risk this?" 

David hesitated before answering. "Yes, I do. Even if I didn't, I'd have to try this anyway. It's the only thing I can think of, and we don't have the time to experiment with other ideas." He gestured towards his oxygen cylinder. "We've got enough breathable air to last us 'til Monday night, if we're lucky." 

"Which gives you roughly a day and a half to get this thing to work." 

David sighed. "Yeah. Nothing like a deadline. You wouldn't happen to have a pair of pliers or anything, would you?" 

"As a matter of fact, I do." He jabbed a thumb towards the door. "They're out in the truck. I'll go get 'em." 

David smiled. <Thank God for that.> 


[Sunday 14 Feb 010 - Somewhere north of Mars Base, 1604 hours] 

David leaned back, massaging cold and tired fingers to get the circulation flowing. Blinking back the blurriness in his eyes, he turned to where Gonzo was sitting, watching over Lauren's unconscious form. "How's she doing?" 

Gonzo looked up. "Good as can be expected, I guess. How 'bout you?" 

David turned back to the beacon. He had spent the past several hours carefully wrapping tiny strands of wire around electronic components in order to bridge cracks in the printed circuit board. He could only pray that his clumsy repairs were successful. "Just about done, I think. All I've got left to do is figure out how to modulate the signal." 

"Any ideas?" 

David blinked again. <Damned cloudy eyes.> "Two wires'll probably be the easiest way. Tap the ends together for each dot or dash." David looked around. The room seemed to be clouded in mist. Red mist. "Ummm... is it just me or is it getting cloudy in here?" 

Gonzo looked around, then climbed to his feet. "Now that you mention it, you're right. It is getting a bit dusty." He walked over to the window, pulled a piece of metal out of the way, and peered outside. "Dios mio!" he muttered. "David, you gotta see this." 

David made his way over to the window. "What? What is it?" 

"See for yourself." 

David looked. The horizon was masked behind a roiling red cloud. As he watched, the cloud slowly increased in size as it approached their location. "What the hell?" 

"Dust storm." Gonzo answered. "I read up on Mars before we landed. During certain parts of the Martian year, this part of the planet is prone to large storms that kick up a lot of dust." 

David groaned. "Let me guess. This is one of those 'certain parts of the year,' right?" 

Gonzo nodded. "They can last for hours, or days." he pointed out. "Not as windy as storms back on Earth, but it doesn't take as much wind to kick up a ton of dust in the lower gravity here." 

David kicked the wall. "Goddammit!" 

"What'll we do?" Gonzo asked. 

David thumped his fist on the wall. "Dammit!" 

"David?" 

David looked at him. "I'm going to finish the beacon." He looked back out the window. "Damn. This changes everything." 

"Why? The storm will cover us until the rescue team gets here. Won't it?" He glanced around. "The aliens won't be able to find us as easy." 

"They can still track the signal." David explained, walking back over to his make-shift workbench. "Doesn't matter if they can see us. Besides, the Veritechs would have a devil of a time flying in that crap." 

"It's not that windy." Gonzo replied. 

David shook his head. "It's not the wind. It's the dust. All that sandy shit getting sucked into the engines wreaks holy havoc. Chews up a lot of delicate parts and - eventually - kills the engines altogether." David sighed. "They can go on straight reaction mass to avoid the problem, but then they wouldn't be able to make it back to orbit. Not and have enough reaction mass to get anywhere once they get there, if they get there at all." 

"Oh." Gonzo said simply, hanging his head. "That's that, then." 

David thought for a moment. "Not quite. You said these storms can last hours or days, right?" Gonzo nodded, and David continued. "Well, I'm going to fix this beacon, and hope that it's closer to hours than days." 

"And if it's not?" 

David looked at him. "Then we'll have to try to contact the ship anyway." Not waiting for a reply, he set back to work. 


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