by Joe Haldeman
There’s plenty of water on Mars, but most of it is in the wrong place. If it was ice on or near the surface, it had to be at the north or south pole. We couldn’t put bases there because they were in total darkness a lot of the time, and we needed solar power.
But there was a huge lake hidden a few hundred meters below the base. It was the easiest large one to get to on all of Mars, we learned from some kind of satellite radar, which was why the base was put here. One of the things we’d brought on the John Carter was a drilling system designed to tap it. (The drills that came with the first ship and the third broke, though, the famous Mars Luck.)
I worked with the team that set the drill up, nothing more challengingthan fetch-and-carry, but a lot better than trying to mentor kids when you wanted to slap them instead.
For a while we could hear the drill through our boots, a faint sandpapery sound that was conducted through the rock. Then it was quiet, and most of us forgot about it. A few weeks later, though, it broke through. It was Sagan 12th, which from then on would be Water Day.
We put on Mars suits and walked down between the wall of the lava tube and the base’s exterior wall. It was kind of creepy, just suit lights, less than a meter between the cold rock and the inflated plastic you weren’t supposed to touch.
Then there was light ahead, and we came out into swirling madness—it was a blizzard! The drill had struck ice, liquefied it, and sent it up under pressure, dozens of liters a minute. When it hit the cold vacuum it exploded into snow.
It was ankle deep in places, but of course it wouldn’t last; the vacuum would evaporate it eventually. But people were already working with lengths of pipe, getting ready to fill the waiting tanks up in the hydroponics farm. One of them had already been dubbed the swimming pool. That’s how the trouble started.
I got on the work detail that hooked up the water supply to the new pump. That was to go in two stages: emergency and “maintenance.”
The emergency stage worked on the reasonable assumption that the pump wasn’t going to last very long. So we wanted to save every drop of water we could, while it still did work.
This was the “water boy” stage. We had collapsible insulated water containers that held fifty liters each. That’s about 110 pounds on Earth, about my own weight, awkward but not too heavy to handle on Mars.
All ten of the older kids alternated a couple of hours on, a couple off, doing water boy. We had wheelbarrows, three of them, so it wasn’t too tiring. You fill the thing with water, which takes eight minutes, then turn off the valve and get away fast, so not too much pressure builds up before the next person takes over. Then trundle the wheelbarrow up a ramp and around to the air lock, leave it there, and carry or drag the water bag inside and across the farm to the storage tanks. Dump in the water—a slurry of ice by then—and go back to the pump with your wheelbarrow and empty bag.
The work was boring as dust, and would drive you insane if you didn’t have music. I started out being virtuous, listening to classical pieces that went along with my textbook on the history of music. But as the days droned by, I listened to more and more city and even sag.
You didn’t have to be a math genius to see that it was going to take three weeks at this rate to fill the first tank, which was two meters tall and eight meters wide, bigger than most backyard pools in Florida.
The water didn’t stay icy; they warmed it up to above room temperature. We all must have fantasized about diving in there and paddling around. Elspeth and Kaimei and I even planned for it.
There was no sense in asking permission from the Dragon. What we were going to do was coordinate our showers so we’d all be squeaky clean—so nobody could say we were contaminating the water supply—and come in the same time, off shift, and see whether we could get away with a little skinny-dip. Or see how long we could do it before somebody stopped us.
At two weeks, the engineers sort of forced our hand. They’d been working on a direct link from the pump to this tank and the other two.
Jordan Westling, Barry’s inventor dad, seemed to be in charge of that team. We always got along pretty well. He was old but always had a twinkle in his eye.
He and I were alone by the tank while he fiddled with some tubing and gauges. I lifted the water bag with a groan and poured it in.
“This ought to be the last day you have to do that,” he said. “We should be on line in a few hours.”
“Wow.” I stepped up on a box and looked at the water level. It was more than half-full, with a little layer of red sediment at the bottom. “Dr. Westling… what would happen if somebody went swimming in this?”
He didn’t look up from the gauge. “I suppose if somebody washed up first and didn’t pee in the pool, nobody would have to know. It’s not exactly distilled water. Not that I would endorse such an activity.”
When I went back to the water point, I touched helmets with Kaimei—always assuming the suit radio was monitored—and we agreed we’d do it at 02:15, just after the end of the next shift. She’d pass the word on to Elspeth, who came on at midnight. That would give her time to have a quick shower and smuggle a towel up to the tank.
I got off at 10 and VR’ed a class on Spinoza, better than any sleeping pill. I barely stayed awake long enough to set the alarm for 1:30.
Two and a half hours’ sleep was plenty. I awoke with eager anticipation and, alone in the room, put on a robe and slippers and quietly made my way to the shower. The roster was almost empty at this hour.
Kaimei had already bathed, and was sitting outside the shower with a reader. I took my shower and, while I was drying, Elspeth came in from work, wearing skinsuit and socks.
After she showered, the three of us tiptoed past the work/study area—a couple of people were working there, but a hanging partition kept them from being distracted by passersby.
The mess hall was deserted. We went up through the changing room and the air-lock foyer and slipped into the farm.
There were only dim maintenance lights at this hour. We padded our way to the swimming pool tank—and heard whispered voices!
Oscar Jefferson, Barry Westling, and my idiot brother had beat us to it!
“Hey, girls,” Oscar said. “Look—we’re out of a job.” A faucet in the side was gurgling out a narrow stream.
“My father said we could quit,” Barry said, “so we thought we’d take a swim to celebrate.”
“You didn’t tell him,” I said.
“Do we look like idiots?” No, they looked like naked boys. “Come on in. The water’s not too cold.”
I looked at the other two girls, and they shrugged okay. Spaceships and Mars bases don’t give you a lot of room for modesty.
I sort of liked the way Barry looked at me anyhow, when I stepped out of my robe and slippers. When Kaimei undressed, his look might have been a little more intense.
I stepped up on the box and had one leg over the edge of the tank, not the most modest posture, when the lights snapped on full.
“Caught you!” Dargo Solingen marched down the aisle between the tomatoes and the squash. “I knew you’d do this.” She looked at me, one foot on the box and the other dangling in space. “And I know exactly who the ringleader is.”
She stood with her hands on her hips, studying. Elspeth was only half-undressed, but the rest of us were obviously ready for some teenaged sex orgy. “Get out, now. Get dressed and come to my office at 0800. We will have a disciplinary hearing.” She stomped back to the door and snapped off the bright lights on her way out.
“I’ll tell her it wasn’t you,” Card said. “We just kind of all decided when Barry’s dad said the thing was working.”
“She won’t believe you,” I said, stepping down. “She’s been after my ass all along.”
“Who wouldn’t be?” Barry said. He was a born romantic.
All of our parents were crowded into the Dragon’s office at 0800. That was not good. My parents were both working the shift from 2100 to 0400, and needed their sle
ep. The parents were on one side of the room, and we were on the other, with a large video screen in the middle.
Without any preamble, Dargo Solingen made the charge: “Last night your children went for a swim in the new Water Tank One.
Tests on the water reveal traces of coliform bacteria, so it cannot be used for human consumption without boiling or some other form of sterilization.”
“It was only going to be used for hydroponics,” Dr. Westling said.
“You can’t say that for certain. At any rate, it was an act of extreme irresponsibility, and one that you encouraged.” She pointed a hand control at the video screen and clicked. I saw myself talking to him.
“What would happen if somebody went swimming in this?” He answered that nobody would have to know—not that he would endorse such a thing. He was restraining a smile.
“You’re secretly recording me?” he said incredulously.
“Not you. Her.”
“She didn’t do it!” Card blurted out. “It was my idea.”
“You will speak when spoken to,” she said with ice in her voice. “Your loyalty to your sister is touching, but misplaced.” She clicked again, and there was a picture of me and Kaimei at the water point, touching helmets.
“Tonight has to be skinny-dipping night. Dr. Westling says they’ll be on line in a few hours. Let’s make it 0215, right after Elspeth gets off.” You could hear Kaimei’s faint agreement.
“You had my daughter’s suit bugged?” my father said.
“Not really. I just disabled the OFF switch on her suit communicator.”
“That is so…so illegal. On Earth they’d throw you out of court, then—”
“This isn’t Earth. And on Mars, there is nothing more important than water. As you would appreciate more if you had lived here longer.” Oh, sure, like living in a spaceship doesn’t count. I think you could last longer without water than without air.
“Besides, it was improper for the boys and girls to be together naked. Even if they hadn’t planned any sexual misbehavior—”
“Oh, please,” I said. “Excuse me for speaking out of turn, Dr. Solingen, but there was nothing like that. We didn’t even know the boys would be there.”
“Really. The timing was remarkable, then. And you weren’t acting surprised about them when I turned on the lights. Nor modest.” Card was squirming, and put up his hand, but the Dragon ignored it. She turned to the parents. “I want to discuss with you what punishment might be appropriate.”
“Twenty laps a day in the pool,” Dr. Westling said, almost snarling. He didn’t like her anyhow, I’d noticed, and spying on him apparently had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. “They’re just kids, for Chris’sake.”
“You’re going to say they didn’t mean any harm. They have to learn that Mars doesn’t recognize intent as an excuse.
“An appropriate punishment, I think, would start with not allowing them to bathe for a month. I would also reduce the amount of water they be allowed to drink, but that is difficult to control. And I wouldn’t want to endanger their health.” God, she was so All Heart.
“For that month, I would also deny them recreational use of the cube and VR, and no exploring on the surface. Double that for the instigator, Ms. Dula”—and she turned back to face us—“and her brother as well, if he insists on sharing the responsibility.”
“I do!” he snapped.
“Very well. Two months for both of you.”
“It seems harsh,” Kaimei’s father said. “Kaimei told me that the girls did take the precaution of showering before entering the water.”
“Intent means nothing. The bacteria are there.”
“Harmless to plants,” Dr. Westling repeated. “Probably to people.”
She looked at him for a long second. “Your dissent is noted. Are there any other objections to this punishment?”
“Not the punishment,” my mother said, “but Dr. Dula and I both object to the means of acquiring evidence.”
“I am perfectly willing to stand on review for that.” The old-timers would probably go along with her. The new ones might still be infected by the Bill of Rights, or the laws of Russia and France.
There were no other objections, so she reminded the parents that they would be responsible for monitoring our VR and cube use, but even more, she would rely on our sense of honor.
What were we supposed to be “honoring,” though? The now-old-fashioned sanctity of water? Her right to spy on us? In fact, her unlimited authority?
I would find a way to get back at her.
20
NIGHTWALK
After one day of steaming over it, I’d had enough. I don’t know when I made the decision, or whether it even was a decision, rather than a kind of sleepwalking. It was sometime before three in the morning. I was still feeling so angry and embarrassed I couldn’t get to sleep.
So I got up and started down the corridor to the mess hall, nibble on something. But I walked on past.
It looked like no one else was up. Just dim safety lights. I wound up in the dressing room and realized what I was doing.
The air lock had a WARNING OVERRIDE button that you could press so the buzzer wouldn’t go on and on if you had to keep the inner door open. Card had shown me how you could keep the button stuck down with the point of a pencil or a pen.
With the air-lock buzzer disabled, a person could actually go outsidealone, undetected. Card had done it with Barry for a few minutes early one morning, just to prove it could be done. So I could just be by myself for an hour or two, then sneak back in.
And did I ever want to be by myself.
I went through the dress-up procedure as quietly as possible. Then before I took a step toward the air lock, I visualized myself doing a safety check on another person and did it methodically on myself. It would be so pathetic to die out there, breaking the rules.
I went up the stairs silently as a thief. Well, I was a thief. What could they do, deport me?
For safety’s sake, I decided to take a dog, even though it would slow me down a bit. I actually hesitated and tested carrying two extra oxygen bottles by themselves, but that was awkward. Better safe than sorry, I said to myself in Mother’s voice, and ground my teeth while saying it. But going out without a dog and dying would be pathetic. Archcriminals are evil, not pathetic. I clicked the OVERRIDE button down and jammed it with the point of a penstick.
The evacuating pump sounded loud, though I knew you could hardly hear it in the changing room. It rattled off into silence, then the red light glowed green and the door swung open into darkness.
I stepped out, pulling the dog, and the door slid shut behind it.
I decided not to turn on the suit light, and stood there for several minutes while my eyes adjusted. Walking at night just by starlight— you couldn’t do that any other place I’ve lived. It wouldn’t be dangerous if I was careful. Besides, if I turned on a light, someone could see me from the mess-hall window.
The nearby rocks gave me my bearings, and I started out toward Telegraph Hill. On the other side of the hill I’d be invisible from the base, and vice versa—alone for the first time in months.
Seeing the familiar rock field in this ghostly half-light brought back some of the mystery and excitement of the first couple of days. The landing and my first excursion with Paul.
If he knew I was doing this—well, he might approve, secretly. He wasn’t much of a rule guy, except for safety.
Thinking that, my foot turned on a small rock and I staggered, getting my balance back. Keep your eyes on the ground while you’re walking. It would be, what is the word I’m looking for, pathetic to trip and break your helmet out here.
It took me less than a half hour to get to the base of Telegraph Hill. It wasn’t all that steep, but the dog’s traction wasn’t really up to it. A truly adventurous person would leave the dog behind and climb to the top with her suit air alone, and although I do like adventure, I’m also afflicted with p
athetico-phobia. The dog and I could go around the mountain rather than over it. I decided to walk in a straight line for one hour, see how far I could get, and walk back, following the dog’s track in the dust.
That was my big mistake. One of them, anyhow. If I’d just gone to the top, taken a picture, and headed straight back, I might have gotten away with the whole thing.
I wasn’t totally stupid. I didn’t go into the hill’s “radio shadow,” and I cranked the dog’s radio antenna up all the way, since I was headed for the horizon, and knew that any small depression in the ground could hide me from the colony’s radio transceiver.
The wind picked up a little. I couldn’t feel or hear it, of course, but the sky showed it. Jupiter was just rising, and its bright pale yellow light had a halo, and was slightly dimmed, by the dust in the air. I remembered Dad pointing out Jupiter, then Mars, the morning we left Florida, and had a delicious shiver at the thought that I was standing on that little point of light now.
The area immediately around the colony was as well explored as any place on Mars, but I knew from rock-hounding with Paul that you could find new stuff just a couple of hundred meters from the air-lock door. I went four or five kilometers and found something really new.
I had been going for fifty-seven minutes, about to turn back, and was looking for a soft rock that I could mark with an X or something— maybe scratch SURRENDERPUNY EARTHLINGS on it, though I suspected people would figure out who had done it.
There was no noise. Just a suddenly weightless feeling, and I was falling through a hole in the ground—I’d broken through something like a thin sheet of ice. But there was nothing underneath it!
I was able to turn on the suit light as I tumbled down, but all I saw was a glimpse of the dog spinning around beside, then above me.
It seemed like a long time, but I guess I didn’t fall for more than a few seconds. I hit hard on my left foot and heard the sickening sound of a bone cracking, just an instant before the pain hit me.