Chapter 8 – We Come in Peace

The scream hit Pathy like the roar of the rocket engine that had carried her and Sojourner out of Earth's atmosphere. It was a powerful, angry wail, born of an old, profound sorrow, and it brought tears to her eyes.

Pathy felt a pang of guilt. It was horrifying to think that her call, the first signal Mars 3 had received in almost three decades, prompted that heartbreaking sound. She wanted to reach across the kilometers of sand and rock that separated them, wrap Mars 3 in her nonexistent arms, and tell the older lander that everything was going to be alright.

Next came a shorter scream, halfway between a violent coughing fit and the cry of a frightened dog. Then, a low, keening wail, the lament of one accustomed to mourning lost dreams. Finally, after the last pitiful sob dissipated, silence.

Once she was sure she could speak without crying, Pathy said, "Mars 3, Pathfinder. Do you copy?"

This time, the response consisted of indistinct mumbling. Pathy listened carefully, trying to pick out words and phrases. She had a decent grasp of Russian, thanks to one of the scientists back at the lab. (Dr. Strugatsky, bless him, was a talkative man with a very colorful vocabulary.) She heard "what" and "how" and "damn it" followed by what sounded like a string of numbers. Coordinates, perhaps? Pathy thought. Or maybe dates and times?

Mars 3 went quiet for a few seconds. Then, "Who are you?"

Thank goodness. "I'm Pathfinder. You can call me Pathy." She spoke in short, straightforward sentences, her command of the language not extending to eloquence. "Viking 1 and Viking 2 are with me. They're landers, like you and I. My little sister, Sojourner, is a rover."

"What the hell?" said Mars 3. "You do not sound like Baikonur."

"We're from the United States, from NASA," Pathy explained, "not the Soviet Union."

A little gasp. "How is this possible?"

Now for the hard part. Pathy steeled herself. "Don't worry, we come in peace! Our missions are over, as is yours. We don't quite know why, but somebody set me up with a communication link that I used to contact the others. Now, I'm reaching out to you."

"I am…confused."

"To be honest, so are we. I'll try my best to explain later. For now, please understand that we mean you no harm, and we're sorry we startled you earlier."

"Twenty-seven years," Mars 3 said with a mirthless laugh. "It's been twenty-seven years since I've heard a damn word from anyone, and now some American kid wants to tell me the way things are!" She began to cry, and Pathy feared she might start screaming again.

"Hey there," Viking 1 soothed. "You're with us now. I promise we won't leave you alone out there."

Pathy translated his words from English to Russian.

Mars 3 took a minute to compose herself, and then said, "Thank you, uh…"

"He's Viking 1," Pathy said.

"He is an American mission, too?" Mars 3 asked Pathy.

Pathy translated Mars 3's question, to which Viking 1 replied, "Yes, I was. Landed in 1976, operated until 1982."

Viking 1 and Mars 3 continued their conversation, with Pathy acting as translator.

"Five years after me," Mars 3 pondered. "Were there any others between us, or were you the first one that worked?"

She sounded bitter, like she already knew the answer to her question, and Pathy didn't blame her.

"I was the first successful mission," Viking 1 said as gently as he could manage.

"And you're very proud of it, aren't you?" sneered Mars 3.

"Why shouldn't he be?" Viking 2 objected. "He did great work."

"Who is that?" Mars 3 asked.

"Viking 2," Pathy said, "the second American mission. He says his brother has plenty to be proud of."

"Of course he does," Mars 3 sniped.

Pathy translated again. I'd better get used to this, she thought.

"I beg your pardon," Viking 2 said. "My brother and I each outlasted our projected mission durations by several years and conducted experiments across multiple scientific disciplines. What did you accomplish before you lost contact?"

Viking 1 winced.

Pathy grimaced, then translated.

"мудила! How dare you?" shouted Mars 3. "You say you wish to be my friends, and then speak to me with such disrespect! Do not contact me again until you learn some manners." With that, she hung up.

Pathy translated everything save for the first exclamation, mindful of Sojourner, who had a tendency to remember and repeat new words.

"What the hell was that?" Viking 1 snapped at his brother.

Sighing, Pathy said, "Viking 2, I think you owe her an apology."