Mars Nation: The Complete Trilogy

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Mars Nation: The Complete Trilogy Page 10

by Brandon Q Morris


  “Is that high?”

  “It’s only been exceeded by one other person.”

  “By yourself?” Ewa laughed. Andy’s self-esteem was anything but shaky.

  “No, by my grandmother. She raised me on her own after my mother ran away to the city, away from my alcoholic father. She sits at one hundred.”

  “And yourself?”

  “A solid fifty, I’d say.”

  Sol 7, NASA Rover

  Someone had to drive the Rover, and Mike lost the draw. He had absolutely no desire to chug across the desolate Mars landscape for ten hours. Fifteen kilometers per hour—he would have been faster on his mountain bike. Pity he hadn’t been able to bring his bike along. With such low gravity, a tour through the Mars desert would have been exciting. And the jumps he could have nailed under these conditions! At least he didn’t have to steer the Rover himself, since the autopilot was maintaining the course. If he had let the Endeavour land earlier, a MfE person could have been the one sitting in here, bored to death.

  The plain he was currently crossing was a classic example of a barren Martian landscape. If only he could examine a few glacial valleys or enjoy a view of the twenty-kilometer-high Mons Olympus! Instead, the boulders lying around him were exceptionally small representatives of their category. He sometimes came across patterns that looked like tracks left by monstrously-large vehicles. They had been created by the wind, which had been blowing here unhindered for millennia. Like a gigantic grater, the sand had scraped across the substrate, revealing the hidden structures once buried deep within the rock.

  Mike watched his gauges. If he increased his speed to twenty kilometers per hour, he could reduce the remaining drive time by two hours. That would also cut the Rover’s range from five hundred to four hundred kilometers. That was significantly more than he was planning to cover today, but in a life-threatening environment like this, it never hurt to have a safety reserve.

  The Rover was being powered by a methanol fuel cell which, in addition to the energy required to propel the vehicle, also produced water and carbon dioxide. The carbon dioxide was expelled through an exhaust pipe into the atmosphere, which was already composed of this gas. On the other hand, the water was captured, and with the help of the electricity generated by the solar cells on the vehicle’s roof, part of it was split into hydrogen for the engine, and oxygen for breathing, as well as for the engine. This meant that Mike didn’t need to worry about either his water or his breathable air reserves. Quite the opposite—the faster he drove, the larger these grew.

  There was one limiting factor, though, and that was the size of the methanol tank. NASA had determined that a range of five hundred kilometers per full tank was sufficient, since the range of operations around the base was supposed to occur within a radius of 100 kilometers. Unlike hydrogen, methanol was safe and easy to handle, so when needed, a supplemental container could be packed, allowing the range to be doubled.

  Mike sighed. He had loathed long drives as a child. His mother had always driven him from the East Coast to the West Coast to celebrate Thanksgiving with his grandparents, due to her fear of flying. In the Midwest, the midpoint of those trips, the landscape became almost as bleak as the one here. However, back then, they had pulled off at a gas station every two hours or so.

  If Mike needed to go to the bathroom on this trip, all he had was the portable urine container. He had packed seven extras for his passengers. For other bodily needs, there was a chemical toilette on board, but it wasn’t large enough to accommodate the needs of eight people on a longer trip. However, the intuitive shame of the passengers would prevent this from becoming a big deal. The cramped interior of the Rover, with its eight square meters of floor space, meant there was no such thing as private toilette usage. The return trip should be a blast. It would probably make him nostalgic for the peace and quiet of the outward run.

  “Are you making good time?”

  Mike jolted awake. He must have dozed off for a moment. “Yes, Sarah,” he replied without looking at the instruments. The autopilot would have awakened him if it had registered a problem.

  “The Endeavour is asking if they can slowly start their landing process. It must be tight quarters up there, and they’re probably bored.”

  “I don’t have a problem with that. The Rover is running perfectly.” Mike rapped the console and moved the steering wheel as if he had been steering the whole time.

  “Good, then I’ll authorize their landing. Sweet dreams, Mike,” Sarah said with a chuckle.

  Mike rubbed his temples and examined the map. He still had four hours to go. It was time to make a call.

  “Rover to MfE module, please come in.”

  It took a while for them to answer.

  “Ewa here. Any news?”

  The boss. Lance was right. There was something about her. She seems a little distracted, he thought. No, that wasn’t the right word. She was aloof. You couldn’t accuse her of not being prepared to fight for her people. She was doing an excellent job as commander, despite the fact she hadn’t been trained for that position. However, there seemed to be a distance between herself and the world. Or was he just imagining that since he had only encountered her indirectly via a screen? He was quite interested to see what his impressions would be when they met for the first time.

  “I just wanted to ask for a status update. I should arrive in four hours,” he replied.

  “Everything’s fine here. We’re looking forward to you getting here with the Rover, and we’re extremely grateful for this.”

  Ewa smiled as she said this, but there it was again—the distance. Maybe she was just an introvert? He had witnessed his fair share of introverted people holding others off at arm’s length even though they would have been happy to be included in the group. He was like that, too, sometimes. He got along well with Sarah, Sharon, and Lance because they had known each other for so long. They had become a kind of family.

  “If I can do anything,” he offered.

  “We still don’t have any idea about how to get our animals into the Rover. But we have some time to brainstorm before the second trip.”

  “I understand. I’ll give this some thought, too. Maybe there’s an old wives’ trick we could use.”

  Ewa laughed. “I doubt there are any old wives out there who’ve ever had to solve such a problem.”

  “Oh, the stories I could tell you! My Mama grew up in Italy. Sicily, to be specific. She claims that she invented the pressure cooker after observing Mount Stromboli for some time.”

  “Does that mean your actual name is Michele, not Michael?”

  “Mama was the only one who ever called me Michele.”

  “And what about the pressure cooker?”

  “It was already around before my mother was born. But she refused to ever admit that. At some point, she showed me an ancient, obviously homemade pressure cooker in her mother’s shed. In their village, they had distilled schnapps in pots like that.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “Yeah, well, that doesn’t help us any.”

  “That’s true. We would rather keep the animals alive and not have to cook them.”

  “I could send a message to my mother.”

  “Sure, why not? We’ll see you in four hours.”

  He glanced at the clock. “Three hours and fifty-six minutes.”

  Ewa’s face disappeared, and the screen automatically turned itself off. Mike started thinking about options. He had plenty of time. Maybe he really should send his mother a note. It would reach Earth in twenty minutes. How late was it right now in Baltimore? Since a day on Mars was forty minutes longer than a day on Earth, it had been a long time since Mike had possessed any sense of what time it was at home. The crew had already started adjusting to Martian time on their outbound flight.

  He activated the voice input program. Everything had been easier in the past. On previous vacations, he had simply bought a postcard, written ‘I got here and am doing well’ on it as
large as possible, and trusted the delivery to the good old U.S. Postal Service. What should he tell his Mama? Everything felt so complicated. He didn’t even know if he was doing well. It looked like he was at present, but maybe the material in the base’s airlock was already developing a hairline tear that would cause an explosive ventilation of the base in the next three days.

  Mike shook his head. Mama wouldn’t want to hear about that. So he decided to describe for her what his day was like. He talked about his colleagues and explained how boring the Mars desert looked. That took up about fifteen minutes. He hadn’t been that talkative in a long time. In the end, he told her about the problem they had with the animals. How could they move a creature without a spacesuit through a deadly environment? She would like feeling part of what was going on in his life. Mama had always felt her best when she was giving advice.

  Mike saved the message and forwarded it through the base to the Deep Space Network. He imagined the high-gain antenna on the base searching for the position of one of the three orbiters. Then his message would shoot, virtually, into space to be picked up by the satellite, which would reformat and strengthen it before streaming it to Earth. His message and question would fly at the speed of light through frigid space until it was caught by one of the large dishes, maybe in Spain or Australia. It depended on which one was pointing in Mars’s direction at the time. The message would eventually reach Mission Control in Florida, where someone would listen to it, label it as private, and then send it on as an email attachment.

  He guessed that all of this would take less than an hour. And then it would just depend on when his mother checked her messages. In all honesty, nobody could say that the two of them were all that far apart. The first explorers of Antarctica had had it much worse when it came to sending news home. Some of them never even returned. It was only later when someone found their bodies that the relatives knew for sure what had happened. In contrast, the entire world would know by the next day if something happened on Mars—unless somebody didn’t want them to.

  “We can see you!” Ewa exclaimed over the radio channel.

  Mike was surprised since it was already dark outside. His navigation lights must be more visible at night than the unlit vehicle was in the haze of day. He switched on his camera. She was right. Far in front of him was a blinking light that could only be on the module.

  “Will it be a problem for you to board in the dark?” he asked.

  “Not at all,” Ewa said.

  “And do you need my help?”

  Mike hoped that Ewa would say no. But then he remembered that the boarding process would have to occur without the pressurized tube attachment. He would have to exhaust the oxygen and open the airlock. That would mean he would have to pull on his spacesuit, so he may as well help with the transition process.

  “It would definitely go faster with your assistance,” Ewa replied, “but I don’t want to take advantage of your good will.”

  “No, I’m already changing, so that’s not a problem.”

  Mike reached for his suit, which he was able to pull on quickly thanks to its flexible material. He tugged on his backpack and connected all the cables and hoses. By the time he finished with this, the Rover had reached its destination. It automatically parked three meters away from the module. Mike put on his helmet and started the pump. It was a shame about the breathable air. He then opened the emergency exit located at the rear of the Rover. It consisted of a heavily-insulated double door. The inner panel swung inside, while the external one swung out. Mike stepped into the passage. “Shit.” The word escaped his lips before he could stop himself. The ground was over a meter below him. That wasn’t how he remembered it.

  “Ewa? You’re going to need to climb some. I’ll wait for you at the hatch to help you up.”

  At least he didn’t have to go out into the chilly night. He glanced at the multi-display on his arm. The temperature had already fallen to minus 80. It would get a lot colder than that before sunrise. They could expect minus 130.

  A glimmer of light bobbed back and forth in front of him. That had to be the helmet lamp of one of the approaching astronauts. It didn’t take long for him to see the contours of the suit. It looked old-fashioned. MfE must have bought those at a flea market! he thought. Nobody had used spacesuits like that in the past twenty-five years. The fluid movements of the person inside the approaching suit reflected real athleticism. Mike could now see that the person was carrying a box that was hugged against the torso of the suit. The astronaut wasn’t just hauling him- or herself along, but also a load. Mike’s opinion of the newcomer rose even more.

  “Hi, I’m Ellen.”

  Mike caught sight of a very youthful face. Its owner looked like she couldn’t even be eighteen. Surely MfE hadn’t sent children on this one-way trip?

  “I’m Mike,” he replied. “Physicist and commander of the NASA mission.”

  “At your age, already? Congrats,” Ellen said. “Could you give me your hand?”

  Mike reached out to shake her hand. She grabbed it and gave it a tug. Mike almost lost his balance.

  “I meant so you could pull me up,” Ellen said.

  Mike stabilized himself and pulled harder. In her suit, the woman didn’t weigh more than thirty Earth kilos, but she felt twice as heavy. He really needed to work out more, especially his arms. Not just the bike, he thought. The suit was so bulky that he had to press himself against the cabin wall to give Ellen enough space. She dropped the box.

  Mike felt the vibration under his shoes. “Please be a little careful,” he said. “This is our only Rover.”

  “Sorry about that!” Ellen said. “I’ll go get a few more crates. So you’ll stay here to give everyone a hand?”

  “Otherwise, none of you will be able to get up here,” Mike replied, gesturing apologetically at the distance below them.

  Ellen jumped back down to the Mars surface, her knees gracefully flexed for the landing. She then turned around and reached for something located right below the hatch. It was a ladder. Mike flushed. Fortunately, nobody could see that in the dark. He hadn’t even thought about the ladder. Ellen pulled it out to its full length and jammed the end into the ground.

  “That’ll feel a little better than your hand,” she said.

  Forty-five minutes later, the Rover was stuffed so full that Mike and his six passengers could barely fit in their seats. Would it have been better if they had all taken off their spacesuits? In the bustle, Mike had a hard time locating Ewa. He finally caught sight of her blonde hair. “Kowalska” was written on her name tag.

  “How does it look in the module?” he asked.

  “We won’t be able to avoid a second trip, but we already knew that. It definitely won’t be so tight the next time, though.”

  “And the animals?”

  “They’re behaving themselves. We have locked them in a wire cage.”

  “So all that’s missing is a plan,” Mike said.

  A head appeared at the hatch. It was Rebecca. “I just wanted to say goodbye,” she said.

  Ewa walked over to the opening and knelt down. “Want to tell me something?”

  “I... no,” Rebecca answered. “Just a funny feeling in my gut. It’s probably just that for the first time in eight months I’ll be all alone. You all can sometimes be a real pain in the ass, but it feels like I’ll actually miss you once you’re gone.”

  “We’ll be back soon,” Ewa said.

  There was no question about it. Six individuals who hadn’t really showered in a long time weren’t any less odorous than a few goats and sheep. Mike’s sense of smell wasn’t especially sensitive, but the range of new aromas in the Rover didn’t escape his notice. However, this situation confirmed the fact that the sense of smell is one of the most adaptable of the senses. What had made him feel nauseous right after the removal of the spacesuits was hardly noticeable after an hour of their drive.

  His passengers had scattered themselves across the boxes and the flo
or. There wasn’t enough space for all of them to lie down. Some of them were dozing. Gabriella, the doctor, was snoring loudly. Mike knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep under these circumstances anyway. He would just have to tough it out.

  He then noticed that Andy had wrapped his arms protectively around a large monitor. Mike nudged him. “Want to watch a film or two? Mission Control regularly sends us a small library to use in our free time. We’re supposed to delete them after watching them, but I just override the copy protection and save them on my personal server.”

  “Cool!” Andy replied. “I also have a little collection, but I downloaded them before we left and have already seen them a hundred times each.”

  “All that’s missing here in the Rover is a large screen, but the one you have...,” Mike pointed at the one Andy was holding.

  “Probably has the largest dimensions for a million kilometers around,” Andy declared.

  “That should work.” Mike stood up, opened a small door in the wall, and pulled out a cable. “Would this work?”

  Andy studied the plug at the end of the cable. He looked skeptical. “Doesn’t look good, but we could make it work with an adaptor,” he replied. “May I?”

  “Sure, but make sure you don’t cause an electrical short. We would be dead in the... um, desert without power.”

  “Got it. I know what I’m doing.”

  Mike watched Andy for a moment, but the guy really did seem to know what he was doing. They should be able to watch films together soon, which would help them get through the final hours. He suddenly noticed that an incoming message was blinking on the console. He climbed over several boxes and hit the answer button.

  Rebecca was gazing into the camera, and Mike could tell right away that she wasn’t feeling well.

  “Sorry to bother you, but I’m afraid my stomachache had nothing to do with my mental state. I’ve caught something,” Rebecca informed him.

 

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