The fact was that to her the real Mars was a hell of a lot more interesting than Lowell’s anthropocentric dreams.

Because of Mariner, Mars had turned into a place you could do some geology.

How would the geology of Mars differ from Earth’s? What would that tell you about Earth that you couldn’t have learned from staying at home? A hell of a lot, probably.

Mariner’s thirteenth frame had electrified her.

The thirteenth picture showed craters with frost inside them.

My God. Not the Moon, not Arizona. Mars is something else. Something unique.

Ben eyed York, interested, speculative. “So you’re a closet Mars nut. I ought to take you out to JPL sometime. That’s where they run the planetary probes from… Hey, Natalie. Maybe you ought to apply.”

“What for?”

“The astronaut corps.”

“Me? Are you joking?”

“Why not? You’re qualified. And we need people like you. Even Spiro says so; he thinks people were turned off by Apollo because it was too engineering-oriented.”

“Well, so it was.”

Priest eyed her. “I’m serious, actually, Natalie. It’s a genuine opportunity for you. You could go work for Jorge Romero’s geology boys in Flagstaff, and train the moonwalkers. That’s how Jack Schmitt got into the program, and they say he’ll make it to the Moon.”

“You worry me, Ben. How can a crazy man like you be allowed to drive a car at night?”

“Here.” Driving with one hand, he reached up, turned back his lapel, and unclipped a silver pin, in the shape of a shooting star trailing a comet’s tail.

“What is it?”

“My rookie’s pin. Someday soon I’m going to get a flight. So you need this more than I do. Take it. And when you’re the first human on Mars, when the Spiro Agnew lands in 1982, drop it into the deepest damn crater you see, and think of me.”

“You’re crazy,” she said again. “You should give it to Petey.”

They fell silent.

Her thoughts turned back to Jackass Flats.

They don’t even contain the vented hydrogen. And Mike never thought to tell me about any of this. Why? Because he thought I couldn’t stand to hear it? Or because he can’t even see what’s wrong here?

What does that say about us? And — do we really have to do this shit to get to Mars?

She closed her fingers around the little pin Ben had given her.

Ahead of them, the interstate was a band shining in the starlight and stretching toward the glow of Vegas.

Monday, October 27, 1969

EDWARDS AIR FORCE BASE, CALIFORNIA