A Day for Damnation

FIFTY-THREE

SATELLITE RECON gave us the morning pictures: three primary targets and seven backups.

I voted for the one closest to our original crash site. Both Colonel Tirelli and Dr. Fletcher agreed and that settled that.

We reconfirmed our choice a half hour before liftoff, and then we were on our way. Three huge choppers clattered into the air like malevolent insects and turned north across the bay. I remembered this view from before.

I glanced around the chopper. Dr. Fletcher was conferring with Jerry Larson about the layout of monitor probes and sample traps. The crew in the back were sleeping. It was a good idea. We'd been up since before dawn. I made myself comfortable

-and was awakened by the beeping of the autopilot. The chopper was dropping. "We're there," called Lizard. I straightened up and looked out the window.

We were falling toward a wide grassy pasture. It was overgrown with tall blue-green grass. I could see it waving in the wind. I glanced backward. The follow-choppers were still in formation, coming down with us.

The three ships settled down into the soft ground right in the center. There was at least a kilometer of clear space on every side of us. Good. Nothing would approach us undetected.

"All right," growled Lizard, "everybody stay in your seats until the ground crew declares the area secure."

I peered out the window. A security team, armed with torches, caustic sprays, and bazookas was just fanning out. I envied them. At least they knew what they were doing.

As soon as security declared the area yellow, the science team hit the ground running. Their job was to put out probes and sensors. I saw several small mobile units rolling out through the grass, including two walkers and a spider.

My orders were to stay inside until we went to condition green. I climbed forward and parked myself in the copilot's seat again. Directly ahead, the walkers were beginning the process of clearing a wide circular area. A gathering circle. A friendly sign for the bunnydogs. An invitation.

I thought about a beer. I opened a Coke instead.

The afternoon got suddenly dark. The camouflage dome was being pulled into place over the chopper. Soon it would be inflated and sprayed. The whole process would take less than an hour. The theory was that the choppers would have negative associations for the worms and bunnies. So we'd hide them. If we needed to scramble, the camouflage domes could be blown away in seconds.

Somebody switched the cabin lights on. I glanced back. Colonel Tirelli was just climbing forward. She dropped into the pilot's seat. We were alone in the chopper.

I turned to look out the opposite window. I made sure she saw that my studied nonchalance was deliberate.

She ignored me. She clicked her controls this way and that and looked very busy. I wondered if she had anything to say to me. Either she didn't-or she wasn't ready to say it yet. The silence stretched on.

Maybe I should say something. I turned to her-

-and noticed a tiny American flag pin on her lapel. I nearly cracked up laughing. I had to bite my tongue to keep control. Lizard looked at me curiously. "Are you all right, Lieutenant?"

"I am fine," I grinned. "Just fine!"