Battleground Mars by Eric Schneider Page B

the hardest and cruelest of environments. The silence was oppressive. Normally, they worked close to other teams and the constant radio chatter, the scream of the drills as they drove further and further into the ground were constant companions. But now there was nothing. It was the silence of death. He made a check of the buggy’s power reserve, there was more than enough remaining for the return journey, even if they needed to drive at full speed all the way. That thought made him look around again for any signs of the aliens, but the horizon was clear. Even so, he couldn’t rid himself of an ominous feeling. He went to speak to Kacy and Saul.
    “How long before we can leave?”
    Kacy looked up. “We’re almost there. The Tauron attack damaged the mounting. Saul had trouble getting it out at first. I think he’s got it now.”
    In the slow motion forced on them by the low gravity, the huge toolpusher’s arm rose and fell, shattering the silence. Even through their helmets they heard the series of loud clangs. He twisted and wrenched back hard, his hand came out clutching a small, alloy container.
    “I’ve got it. This is the recording data module.”
    “Is it damaged?” Rahm asked. The last thing they needed was to come this far into enemy territory for nothing.
    Saul shook his head. “I can’t tell yet, but it should be ok. Let’s take it back to base and we can check it all out.”
    “Rahm!” He looked up as Kaz’s voice echoed in his helmet speaker. “Taurons at one hundred and twenty degrees, I'd estimate they're about five miles away.”
    “Have they seen us?”
    “Yes. They’re headed straight for us.”
    “Mount up, let’s get out of here! Move, move, move!”
    They clambered aboard the buggy and Rahm took off at high speed back to Chryse Gulf. They surged out of the valley and he skirted Isidris Bay to hit the narrow pass between Araby and the Schiaparelli Crater. It wasn’t the smoothest way back, but it was the shortest.
    “Are they following, Kaz?”
    “Yes.”
    “Can’t you make this thing go any faster?” Kacy asked him. “Their vehicle is quicker than ours.”
    “Not a chance. Kaz, how many of them can you see?”
    “It looks like three of them in an open Tauron transport.” They heard his cry of surprise. “No, by the Prophet, there’re just two. But one of them, he’s gigantic.” Even the normally taciturn Arab sounded worried. “Rahm, it really would be best if we didn’t tangle with these aliens, that big one, well, I wouldn’t like to face him without an armed squad behind me. A large, heavily armed squad. And even then I’d be worried.”
    Rahm took the hint and concentrated on steering a straight course. If they kept driving at top speed they should make it back ahead of the Taurons, but it would be a close run thing. They were all silent for a time as they hurtled across the craggy Martian surface, then they dipped into a pass that skirted the crater. It was narrow and uneven, and the buggy lurched wildly as he fought the wheel to keep it on course. They lurched out of the end of the pass and began skirting the Plain of Xanthe, across the rolling sands that led back to Chryse Gulf and home. They were ten miles out from Mars Base when the full force of the storm hit them.
    The Martian tempest smashed into them with more violence than anyone on Earth could possibly believe. The winds whipped up the sandy surface, picking up rocks and debris and hurling them around as if they were made of paper. Their whole world disappeared, one moment they were looking for the first signs of Mars Base, the next moment there was nothing. It was as if they had sunk into a deep dark hole. Once more Rahm cursed the management for not fitting the automatic navigational equipment that would have taken them directly home. Instead, they had to fix their course and position the old way, using a paper map and dead reckoning on their last known position. There was a rudimentary satellite