Jamie thought his vision was blurring, but then the stinging made him realize that sweat was getting into his eyes. He blinked and rubbed his eyes with one hand, keeping a firm grip on the wheel with the other. The rover was churning along at a steady thirty klicks per hour, heading for the landslide that they had come down two days earlier.

Maybe we can make it before sundown, Jamie thought. If we can get all the way up the slope and onto the plain again before sundown, we can just keep going all night long. I’ll slow her down, of course, but the lights are good enough to keep us on the move. No need to stop for the night. We can even follow our own tracks, the tracks we made coming out here. If they haven’t been covered up by dust. If we can get to the top.

Connors slid into the right-hand seat. Jamie shot him a glance. The astronaut looked spent. He sat as if his bones could not hold him up, his head almost lolling on his shoulders.

"How’s it goin’?" Connors’s voice was hoarse.

"So far so good."

"How far to the slide?"

Jamie gestured with his chin toward the map displayed in the control panel’s central screen. "Half an hour, maybe a little more."

"We got a shot at getting to the top in daylight, then."

"Yep."

"Good."

"How are the women doing?" Jamie asked.

"Ilona’s asleep. Joanna’s watching her. She don’t look too good herself, though."

"Asleep? Or passed out?"

Connors tried to shrug. "Hard to tell."

"And what about you? How do you feel?"

"Like a piece of shit that’s been stomped on by a herd of elephants. How ’bout you?"

"Not much better. But this go-mobile is easy to drive. It’s almost relaxing."

"Just don’t fall asleep at the wheel."

"Not much traffic to worry about."

"Yeah, but some of the potholes in the road can swallow you up."

Despite Connors’s awful appearance, Jamie felt better with the astronaut sitting beside him. He pressed the accelerator a little harder and watched the digital speedometer climb to thirty-five; just over twenty miles an hour. He kept hearing Li’s voice telling him, "It is urgent that you reach the dome for treatment quickly. As quickly as you can."

The ground seemed to be rising. At first Jamie did not notice it, but then he realized that their ride was getting bumpier.

"I think we’re almost… Hey! There it is!"

Through the canopy they saw the dark red slope of the ancient landslide rising off to their left like a stairway to heaven. The cliffs that towered before them were masked by the beautiful, gentle grade that ramped all the way up to the caprock and the plain that led back to their dome.

Connors’s dark face broke into a toothy grin. He turned in his seat, but said nothing. To Jamie he muttered, "They’re both asleep back there."

"It’s okay. We’ll be up this slope and heading for home before the sun goes down."

The grade was studded with rocks and boulders. Jamie could not see the tracks they had made on their way down; the dust storm had covered even the deep ruts where the rover had gotten temporarily stuck in loose sand.

"Don’t get into that loose stuff again," Connors said.

"Not if I can help it."

"Slow her down a little, but keep moving forward."

"Yeah."

The astronaut licked his lips. Jamie knew he wanted to take over, to drive the rover himself. Yet Connors stayed in the right-hand seat. To switch drivers now would mean stopping the rover, and neither of them had any intention of coming to a stop on the pebbly gravel of this ancient avalanche.

"You’re doin’ fine," Connors muttered. "Just watch that depression on the right."

Jamie skirted the edge of what looked to him like an old crater that had been partially filled in with sand. He turned around its flank, maneuvering past a boulder almost as big as the rover itself.

"Good. Good," Connors mumbled. "Keep it goin’."

It all happened in slow motion. The rover was making steady progress up the slope. Jamie could feel the gritty, bumpy texture of the surface beneath its wheels transmitted through the steering column to his hands. He was perspiring heavily, sweat stinging his eyes, Connors’s backseat driving in his ears, neck stiff with tension, arms aching with the effort of steering the lumbering vehicle.

Jamie felt the nose dip as if it had started down a steep incline. Automatically he leaned on the brakes, but the big blunt-nosed rover plowed into a lake of fine loose sand, throwing up a rust-red bow wave of dust that covered the canopy.

"Look out!" Connors yelled too late.

As inexorably as fate, with all the slow-motion horror of a nightmare, the rover dug itself into the loose sand like a burrowing mole. Jamie felt the wheels churning uselessly, spinning them deeper into the sand-filled pit.

"Stop! Stop everything!"

Jamie was already disengaging the wheel drives when Connors shouted it. The canopy was spattered so heavily with clinging red dust that they could barely see outside.

The rover slid to a stop. Jamie felt his heart thudding in his chest, heard its thunder in his ears. He looked across at Connors, who was staring outward, mouth hanging open, gasping for breath.

"I don’t think the rear module is in the stuff," Jamie said. "I’m going to try to put its wheels in reverse."

"Yeah. Maybe it can pull us out of this."

The generator whined and they could hear the faint screech of wheels spinning without traction. Jamie shut them down before the bearings burned out.

"We’re stuck," he said.

Connors’s bloodshot eyes were wide with fear. "Yeah. Looks that way."

Vosnesensky was the last one to be tested.

The Russian was in no mood for having a medic punch holes in his skin. Connors had just reported that the rover was stuck halfway up the landslide. They would need a rescue effort. But how? And who? Dr. Li refused to allow anything to be done until he had consulted with mission control in Kaliningrad. Meanwhile night was coming on and the four people in the rover were as sick as dogs.

Not that the people in the dome were much better off. Toshima had suddenly collapsed at his workstation; they had had to carry him to his bunk. Patel, Naguib, even Abell and Mironov were not much good for anything except sitting around and moaning. Monique Bonnet, who had been playing the cheerful, motherly nurse for the past two days, was dragging herself around, hollow eyed with exhaustion.

"And how do you feel, in general?" Dr. Yang asked as Vosnesensky sat on the little white stool in the infirmary.

The Russian glowered at her. "I have important work to do," he said. "We have a crisis…"

Yang was barely taller than Vosnesensky even though he was seated and she was standing. But she stopped him cold with a snap of her almond eyes.

"You will not be able to do anything about your crisis if your medical condition continues to worsen," she said. She did not raise her voice, but there was cold steel in her words. "Now please answer my questions and do as I tell you."

Vosnesensky glanced at Reed, who was leaning against the patient’s couch in the corner of the tiny infirmary. Reed seemed to be in good health, his face pink. At least that damned superior smile of his was gone; he was frowning with puzzled frustration.

"The sooner you cooperate the sooner we will be finished," Yang said.

Vosnesensky capitulated. "What must I do?"

"Roll up your left sleeve and tell me how you feel. Exactly how you feel."

The Russian pulled in a deep breath as he unbuttoned the cuff of his coverall sleeve. "I am weak, my legs ache, I have no appetite."

"Have you ever felt this way before?" Yang held a hypodermic syringe in one hand, its needle glinting in the overhead lights.