I couldn’t wipe it away with my hands, either, and—
And damn! The surface of Mars was littered with rocks, and my boot caught on one, and I went flying. At least I came back down in slo-mo; I had plenty of time to brace myself for the impact. I looked toward the buggy and could make it out in more detail now. It was yellow—not an uncommon color for such things—and it had a pressurized habitat, meaning whoever was chasing me was more likely biological than not.
I scrambled to my feet and started running again. There was no doubt now that the buggy was coming at me, rather than Pickover. I’d expected it to rush right up to me, but it skidded to a stop about seventy meters away, spinning through a half turn. Ah, it had come to the periphery of the Alpha, and the driver had slammed on the brakes; either they knew about the land mines, or they didn’t want to risk damaging any exposed fossils by driving over them.
The buggy’s boxy habitat swung backward on hinges, and I saw the white cloud of condensation that occurs when breathable air is vented into the Martian atmosphere. Coming through the cloud were two figures in surface suits. The helmets were polarized, so I couldn’t see who was inside, but the person on my left, wearing a red suit, was a curvy female, and the one on my right, in a blue suit, had the bulk of a man. The woman was carrying what might have been a pump-action shotgun, although where someone would get such a thing on Mars, I had no idea; it’s not like they were needed to kill varmints here.
They started running toward me, and I now weaved left and right as I ran. I wasn’t sure what I was running for—there was no shelter, although I thought hills were starting to peek over the horizon, which suggested we might be near Syrtis Major.
I looked to my left, trying to spot Pickover, but couldn’t make him out. I looked back to my right and saw the woman in red fire the shotgun. There was almost no report from the blast in this thin air, but I saw the lick of flame. She didn’t come anywhere near to hitting me—suggesting she wasn’t experienced with a gun.
When they weren’t weighed down by surface suits, you could see at a glance if a runner was new to Mars or not; it took a while to get the hang of sailing so far with each stride. But I couldn’t tell about this woman. The man, though, was an old hand; he was close enough now that I could make out details of the suit he was wearing. It had an old-fashioned helmet that was glass only at the front. No one rented suits like that anymore, so this guy probably owned his—and had for at least ten mears.
Another blast from the shotgun. If they hit me in the suit, it probably wouldn’t kill me; the pressure-webbing in the fabric would double nicely as a reasonably bulletproof lining. But although the helmet was impact resistant, it wasn’t shatterproof; alloquartz did a great job of screening out UV, and wouldn’t break if you dropped it—especially in Mars’s gravity—but the warranties specifically disclaimed micrometeorite damage, and I imagined lead shot coming in at high speed was a good approximation of such impacts.
I decided to reactivate my radio. I did that by hitting a control in the suit collar with my chin; it was just to the left of the tube that snaked around from behind, bringing air into the fishbowl. “Pickover,” I said, “remember, they may be listening in. Don’t tell me where you are—but I’m heading west, and they’ve opened fire on me.”
The cultured English accent: “Roger.”
Another male voice on the same circuit, half out of breath from running. “Professor Pickover, is that you?”
Pickover, surprised: “Yes. Who is this?”
“Professor, my name’s Darren Cheung. I’m with the United States Geological Survey. We thought you were someone looting the fossil beds.”
“It’s a trick, Pickover!” I shouted.
But the little paleontologist wasn’t as naïve as I feared. “The girls can flirt and other queer things can do,” he said. If it was a code for me, I didn’t know it. He added, “What’s that mean?”
“Professor,” said the same male voice, “we’re wasting time.”
Pickover’s voice was harsh. “Get him, Alex.”
I appreciated his faith in me, but I didn’t have any idea just then how to get