guys might as well have another look around.”
Soon the suited figures of Phyllis and George emerged, followed by Simon and Ann and Edvard. Phyllis and George took a transponder from Rover Three and set it out three meters to the right of their “road.” Nadia went to work on the broken frame, handling things as little as possible; it was a cold afternoon, perhaps seventy below, and she could feel the diamond chill right down to the bone.
The ends of the bolts wouldn’t come out of the side of the module, so she got out a drill and started drilling new holes. She began to hum “The Sheik of Araby.” Ann and Edvard and Simon were discussing sand. It was so nice, Nadia thought, to see ground that wasn’t red. To hear Ann absorbed in her work. To have some work to do herself.
They had almost reached the arctic circle, and it was Ls = 84, with the northern summer solstice only two weeks away; so the days were getting long. Nadia and George worked through the evening while Phyllis heated supper, and then after the meal Nadia went back out to finish the job. The sun was red in a brown haze, small and round even though it was near setting; there wasn’t enough atmosphere for oblation to enlarge and flatten it. Nadia finished, put her tools away, and had opened the outer lock door of Rover One, when Ann’s voice spoke in her ear. “Oh Nadia, are you going in already?”
Nadia looked up. Ann was on the ridge of the dune to the west, waving down at her, a black silhouette against a blood-colored sky.
“That was the idea,” Nadia said.
“Come on up here just a second. I want you to see this sunset, it’s going to be a good one. Come on, it’ll only take a minute, you’ll be glad you did it. There are clouds to the west.”
Nadia sighed and closed the outer lock door.
The east face of the dune was steep. Nadia carefully stepped in the prints Ann had made in her ascent. The sand there was packed and held firm most of the time. Near the crest it got steeper, and she leaned forward and dug in with her fingers. Then she was clambering onto the broad rounded crest, and could straighten up and have a look around.
Only the crests of the tallest dunes were still in sunlight; the world was a black surface, marred by short scimitar curves of steely gray. Horizon about five kilometers off. Ann was crouching, a scoop of sand in her palm.
“What’s it made of?” Nadia asked.
“Dark solid mineral particles.”
Nadia snorted. “I could have told you that.”
“Not before we got here you couldn’t. It might have been fines aggregated with salts. But it’s bits of rock instead.”
“Why so dark?”
“Volcanic. On Earth sand is mostly quartz, you see, because there’s a lot of granite there. But Mars doesn’t have much granite. These grains are probably volcanic silicates. Obsidian, flint, some garnet. Beautiful, isn’t it?”
She held out a handful of sand for Nadia’s inspection. Perfectly serious of course. Nadia peered through her faceplate at the black grit. “Beautiful,” she said.
They stood and watched the sun set. Their shadows went right out to the eastern horizon. The sky was a dark red, murky and opaque, only slightly lighter in the west over the sun. The clouds Ann had mentioned were bright yellow streaks, very high in the sky. Something in the sand caught at the light, and the dunes were distinctly purplish. The sun was a little gold button, and above it shone two evening stars: Venus, and the Earth.
“They’ve been getting closer every night lately,” Ann said softly. “The conjunction should be really brilliant.”
The sun touched the horizon, and the dune crests faded to shadow. The little button sun sank under the black line to the west. Now the sky was a maroon dome, the high clouds the pink of moss campion. Stars were popping out everywhere, and the maroon sky shifted to a vivid dark violet, an electric color that was picked up by the dune crests, so that it seemed crescents of liquid twilight lay across the black plain. Suddenly Nadia felt a breeze swirl through her nervous system, running up her spine and out into her skin; her cheeks tingled, and she could feel her spinal cord thrum. Beauty could make you shiver! It was a shock to feel such a physical response to beauty, a thrill like some