Red Ochre
Dangling in mid-air, terrified, it all came flooding back to me. I was out on the Martian plain again, my respirator broken; nothing but red rocks and dust between me and the horizon, under a pink sky. I could hear my dry, strained breathing, feel my chest heaving involuntarily as my lungs shuddered and bucked, straining for air; my body bypassing my brain in an uncontrollable fight for life.
Then I was back in the cave, suspended by the rope linking me to Pietr. His screaming shout sounded faint as I reached for my knife. "No, no no," echoed round the cavern. But I had no choice. I'm no lightweight, and he was slipping perilously close to the edge of the hole I had tumbled through, dragged by my weight. Better one of us falling than two. It took five seconds, maybe longer, to
