Mosaic (12 page)

"Are you experienced?"

"I have my certification now. I need more practice. That's

why I want to go to the quarries."

"I thought we were just going to swim and have fun." This

from Emma, who was looking more dubious all the time.

Kathryn sighed. It was getting harder and harder to enjoy

Emma and Mary's company. They'd been her best friends since

they were little, but it seemed lately they'd become

fearful and nervous about every activity she suggested. She

was glad she wouldn't be going to school with them any

longer.

At long last, she would be attending the Academy

Institute. She had battled her parents for years over this

issue, and they finally relented when she won the

prestigious state mathematics award. She would spend her

final four years of preparatory school at the place she

knew she should have been attending long ago.

There, at the Institute, she would find new friends,

friends more like her who were curious about things, and

liked adventure and new experiences. No more tennis, no

more piano and ballet. She was finally going to be allowed

to enter the twenty-fourth century, and she couldn't wait.

"How far away are these quarries?" Mary sounded uneasy, and

Kathryn knew she and Mary were both getting nervous about

being so far from the colony. "Not much farther. Just

beyond that next rise."

"We're pretty far away from anyone. What if something

happens?"

"Like what?"

"An accident."

Kathryn shot her a look of disdain. "There are three of

us. Someone can always go for help." But she knew from the

guarded glance the other girls exchanged that they weren't

comforted. Kathryn stopped abruptly and faced them.

"Do you want to go back? If so, go ahead.

I'll swim by myself." "Kathryn, that's dangerous.

You should never swim alone."

"I'd rather do that than spend time with people who are

going to be moping around waiting for dire things to

happen."

She stood rock still, eyeing Mary and Emma sternly. As she

expected, they couldn't hold the look; their eyes danced

away nervously and scanned the Martian hills. "Well?"

Kathryn shot at them, and Mary looked back at her first.

"We said we'd come and we did. Let's not argue about it. 11

Kathryn nodded and turned back in the direction of the

quarry, heard the other two follow her, and breathed a sigh

of resignation. They seemed so young to her. How could they

all possibly be the same age? They were climbing a rise

that was studded with huge boulders and rocky outcroppings;

they had to weave their way through narrow passageways that

twisted and wound like a maze. Then they emerged into the

open, and found themselves standing on an upward-sloping

expanse of flat rock beyond which they could see nothing

except sky; a sheer drop-off awaited them. As they neared

the edge Emma and Mary hung back, approaching slowly.

Kathryn went to all fours and then stretched herself out,

inching toward the drop-off. The abandoned quarry was

arrayed before her: steep, chiseled stone walls that still

bore the marks of ultrasonic drills, plummeting down fifty

meters to the surface of a clear lake some five hundred

meters in diameter. It was a foreboding sight, stark and

mysterious, and Kathryn felt her blood tingle with a

mixture of apprehension and excitement.

"How are we supposed to get down there?"

whispered Emma. Kathryn turned to her.

"Why are you whispering?"

Emma turned to her, dark eyes wide, face pale. "I don't

know. It just seems weird here."

"It's strange and beautiful-kind of wild. I like it."

Kathryn's eyes were scanning the terrain as she spoke,

looking for a route to the water below. The quarry walls

weren't smooth, but craggy, with plenty of handholds. They

could make it down.

"We climb. With rough rock like that, it'll be easy."

"I'm not doing that." Mary stood up, looking down at them

with total resolve. "That's just asking for trouble."

Kathryn started to retort, but suddenly they all heard the

unmistakable sound of footsteps-someone was climbing the

rise behind them, moving through the maze of rocks. Mary

dropped back to her knees, and guiltily, they all tried to

press themselves behind outcroppings. Was it one of their

parents? Had someone seen them leave the colony and strike

out across the Tharsis plain?

The footsteps came nearer, scuffling on the gravelly

ground. A few steps more and the person would emerge from

the rocks and out into the open. Kathryn held her breath;

she was sure it would be her father, furious with her for

having broken an explicit rule.

A figure emerged from the passageway, backlit by the sun

and unidentifiable, but it was a man, and he was tall and

slender-and Kathryn's stomach turned queasy. It had to be

her father.

"Hello, ladies. Going swimming?" The voice was familiar

but was definitely not her father's.

Kathryn rose and as the figure moved closer, he turned and

his face was illuminated.

Hobbes Johnson.

Relief and dismay struggled for supremacy inside Kathryn:

that it wasn't her father was a vast comfort, but the sight

of Hobbes Johnson, lanky and dull, was about the final

dismal touch in a day that had been rapidly going downhill.

"Hobbes, what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Aren't the quarries

offlimits to you?" "At least there are three of us. You

came by yourself. That's foolish."

"No, it wasn't. I saw you leaving. I figured you were going

to the quarries."

Kathryn felt a rush of annoyance, which, on top of her

frustrations with Emma and Mary, pushed her from irritation

to anger. "Don't you think if we'd wanted your company,

we'd have asked you?"

Hobbes paled at the attack, and Kathryn was immediately

sorry. She didn't mean to hurt his feelings, she was just

irked. But she saw Mary and Emma looking at her in shocked

surprise, and realized she'd gone too far. "I'm sorry,

Hobbes. I didn't mean it . . . it's just been a frustrating

day. I really want to go swimming, and I can't seem to get

any enthusiasm from these two."

Mary's dander was still up. "I was enthusiastic-until I

realized how reckless and dangerous this is. Kathryn wants

to climb down the face of the quarry. That's ridiculous."

"Only way to get there," said Hobbes mildly.

"Well, I'm not doing it. I'm going back."

"Me, too," chimed in Emma, and both rose to their feet.

Kathryn stared at them. were they abandoning her?

Leaving her here with Hobbes Johnson? She glared in

disbelief.

"Fine," she heard herself saying. "Go on back.

If you're not brave enough to do it, I don't want you

around." Again, she immediately regretted her words. It was

as though her mouth were an organism unto itself, acting

without her permission. She saw Mary draw herself up, hurt

and angry. "If you have any sense at all, you'll come back

with us. Face it, Kathryn-this was a terrible idea."

"If I decide to do something, I'm not going to back out

just because it gets a little difficult. But you do

whatever you want." Kathryn's face felt hot, and she

realized she was just being stubborn, but the more the

conversation went on, the more she felt herself dig in.

"Come on, Mary. Let's go." Emma looked eager to leave the

quarry and the unpleasantness. Mary gave Kathryn one more

somber look. "Kathryn?"

Kathryn merely shook her head, obstinate. The two other

girls shrugged, lifted their bags, and headed for the maze

of rocks that would lead them away from the quarry and back

toward the colony. Kathryn watched them leave, suddenly

feeling alone and friendless.

And worst of all, now she was stuck with Hobbes Johnson.

She gave him an awkward glance.

He was watching the retreating girls, face impassive. What

should she do? Wait a decent interval and then follow them?

She couldn't imagine spending another two minutes with

Hobbes. She looked down at the water below, remembering her

determination to make it down there, to swim in the clear

waters of the quarry, to practice her diving techniques.

She felt Hobbes' eyes on her and looked up at him. He

wasn't quite as vulky-looking as he used to be, but no one

would ever call him attractive. He no longer wore braces,

but a few red pimples dotted his face; apparently even

dermal-regeneration treatments didn't work on his acne.

Kathryn thought it looked disgusting. And he was as thin as

ever, a long, reedy boy with a skinny neck and hair that

tufted in unruly patches on his head. And there they were,

alone together at the top of the quarry. Now what?

"Want to give it a try?" Hobbes' voice was as neutral as

ever. It was as though he were suggesting they take a walk

through the cornfields. Kathryn hesitated, options warring

within her. She really, really wanted to swim in that

quarry. She really, really didn't want to do it with Hobbes

Johnson.

She glanced down again, saw the clear water below,

beckoning to her.

She shrugged, feigning tedium. "Might as well." She hefted

her bag, rearranged the straps to carry it on her back, and

edged toward the cliff wall to search for the best starting

place.

"It's over here," said Hobbes, walking to a small crevasse

a few meters away.

He stepped easily into it, swinging his body around and

deftly grasping handholds. He began climbing confidently

down the quarry face, hands and feet finding their way with

ease and efficiency. Kathryn was impressed. She'd done her

share of rock climbing-credit The Meadows with that, for

including this ancient sport in their physical curriculum-and had always enjoyed the challenge, but she lacked ease

and style. She moved to the crevasse, immediately saw the

places where Hobbes had found purchase, and began to follow

him down the steep wall of the quarry.

Ten minutes later, they stood on a stone shelf that

protruded over the water, a natural diving platform. 91

Hobbes had already opened his bag and was removing his

breathing gill and thermal tripolymer suit.

Kathryn looked at him in surprise. "You're going to dive?"

He glanced up at her as he calibrated his breathing gill.

"That's why I come here. I'm looking for an opening into

the Olympus Mons cave system." She thought maybe she hadn't

heard him correctly. "You? You're looking for the Olympus

system?"

His gray eyes sought hers. "Why? Do you know about it?"

She nodded. "Some day I'm going to explore the caves. I'd

like to map the system."

"How did you know about the caves?"

"Someone from Starfleet once told me. How did you?" "I

read about them. Some obscure story I found in a historical

database at the library."

It figured. Hobbes always had his nose in a padd-and never

one anyone else would be caught dead reading.

"So," he continued, "my dad and I have been diving the

quarries since last year, looking for an entrance. We've

covered about seven of them. We were here a few days ago

but my gill started malfunctioning and we had to leave."

"You dad lets you dive the quarries?"

"Sure."

No wonder Hobbes was so strange-he came from a strange

family. No one let their children go to the quarries. What

could his father have been thinking?

"Well, I hope you have enough sense not to dive alone."

"Of course not. Usually I'm with dad. Today I have you."

Something about the placid ease of his presumption rankled

Kathryn. She almost said she didn't want to dive, just to

punish him for jumping to the conclusion that she'd dive

with him, but in time she remembered that it was exactly

what she wanted to do, and there was no point in spoiling

her day. For once, she managed to squelch herself before

she said something she regretted.

Quickly, she pulled on her thermal suit, an intricate web

of nichrome filaments that would keep her body comfortably

warm even in near-freezing water. They both had equipment

they'd used in school, where diving had been taught along

with rock climbing, tennis, and swimming. Lightweight

tripolymer body suits, vented fins, and the breathing

gills, which constantly extracted breathable oxygen from

the surrounding water, much like the gills of a fish.

Long ago, humans had used bulky oxygen tanks, and then

rebreathers, which processed exhaled air, removing the

carbon dioxide by mixing it with alkaline hydroxide, and

then injecting the resultant oxygen with helium. These

tanks would allow divers to stay underwater for up to

twenty-four hours at a time.

Now, of course, they could be under for as long as they

wanted, just like fish.

They checked each other's buddy lights, readjusted their

gills, and then lowered themselves off the platform and