Mars Nation: The Complete Trilogy

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Mars Nation: The Complete Trilogy Page 36

by Brandon Q Morris


  An elevator connected the ship’s floors. She was allowed to use it, though she was still locked out of the uppermost level. This, of course, was where the bridge was located. Ewa was more interested in the storage rooms that had been set up in the lower part of the ship anyway. Most of the containers in which the supplies were stored were extensively labeled—very practical—but she wondered why some had no labels at all.

  The ship’s comp wouldn’t have agreed to give her comprehensive information about anything, but it also didn’t prevent her from wandering around or checking the contents of the containers.

  Ewa had just opened a double door. The room beyond it was taller than the others, and it smelled of rubber and oil. The storeroom’s contents were concealed behind heavy tarps that were fastened to the floor. She cautiously tugged one of the tarps to the side and found herself standing next to a tire that was almost as tall as she was. This must be the garage!

  Ewa strode through the room. “Can you tell me what this is, Friday?”

  ‘I could compare the components to my image archive.’

  “Do it.”

  ‘The tire might belong to a loader.’

  “A loader?”

  ‘You need one if you want to move a lot of dirt.’

  “As in digging something up?”

  ‘Or burying it.’

  “Good.”

  Ewa moved deeper into the room, pulling aside other tarps. “And this one here?” She saw some kind of horizontal tower constructed out of metal struts. It reminded Ewa of electrical-service pylons on Earth.

  ‘Might be a drill.’

  Ewa heard the echo of her voice. The room seemed to be packed full, but acoustically it sounded emptier than the other ones. “A drill? They planned to drill for water?” she asked.

  ‘Presumably. Scientists have theorized that there is a water table deep underground.’

  This would save them having to search for surface water deposits, like the one Rebecca and Theo had found, Ewa thought. They could be more flexible in their decision about where to build their colony. For example, this spot would work. There were probably mineral deposits around here. Once one’s water supply was secure, then other resources could move up on the priority list.

  Ewa felt an idea dawning inside her. How long until the spaceship with the colonists arrives? She figured she had at least two months until then. During that time, she would try to steal the machines. This would at least make up in part for the damage she had caused—as long as that thing inside her brain didn’t interfere.

  6/5/2042, Spaceliner 1

  The group convened in the Senator’s cabin. Rick was impressed. The room measured at least twelve square meters. There was a sofa against one wall in front of which sat a low table and two chairs. The bed was located against the other wall. The wall above the bed contained a window. A window? Rick visualized the shape of the ship. That’s impossible. It must be a giant screen that was framed in metal similar to a porthole. Rick felt an urge to breathe against the glass. If it were really a window, it would fog up. But had the designers perhaps come up with a way to simulate that effect to complete the illusion?

  “Would you please take a seat?” the Senator asked, gesturing at the couch and chairs.

  Of those in attendance, Rick only knew Maggie, the pilot. He had chatted a little at some point with the Japanese man, Tetsu, who was representing the scientists on board. Then there was Jean Warren, the ship’s official captain, who tended to stay in the shadows in public settings. What might her secret be? Rick didn’t know where her cabin was, which meant he was watching her without the benefit of his bugs. He hoped that his new role would open up new possibilities for him.

  He floated over to the others and sank quite meekly onto the edge of the sofa. One of the chairs was automatically kept available for the Senator.

  “Your aunt won’t be joining us?” Rick asked.

  “She isn’t feeling well. The matters on Earth...”

  “Oh.”

  “That is what we’re going to discuss today,” the Senator said. They could tell that he was bored by this meeting and that he wanted to get through it quickly. “First of all, I would like to introduce you to my new deputy.” He pointed at Rick, who humbly nodded his head.

  “My aunt’s health requires that I dedicate more time to tending to her needs, which is why I will be involved even less than I have been in the ship’s day-to-day activities. Due to his excellent academic achievements and his dedicated service on board this ship, I have selected Rick to help me during this time. I also hope that he will have a closer connection with the crew than I could ever have because of my background. I believe he enjoys the trust of all the service providers on the ship, something that we will need all the more during these difficult times.”

  ‘Service providers,’ eh? He probably almost said slaves, Rick thought. But that didn’t matter. He didn’t need Ballantine’s respect, which he would never receive anyway.

  “Thank you, Mr. Ballantine,” he said. “I will do my best to be worthy of this honor you have given me.”

  “I hope so,” the Senator said as he stared at him. Ballantine’s eyes flashed with contempt and fury.

  Rick was fully aware that the Senator would use any chance that came along to get rid of him, and then destroy him. He couldn’t give Ballantine that opportunity.

  “I would like to ask all of you to support my deputy as fully as possible. He speaks in my name. Now, is there any news from Earth?” Ballantine asked, shifting his attention to Tetsu.

  “No, unfortunately. We have exhausted all of our investigative options, and our distance from Earth increases with each passing day. We can safely say that there is no electromagnetic activity being sent from Earth into space.”

  “Not even radio or television waves?”

  “We can’t say for certain that no local stations are operational, but nothing’s beaming into space with sufficient power for us to pick it up.”

  “And what about the other things that civilizations generate?”

  “The concentration of climate-harming gases seems to be holding steady, but that would be expected in the short term. The atmosphere’s circulation patterns have remained equally constant. There are no emergency signals for the time being.”

  “Perhaps they have all come to an agreement not to communicate with us anymore, and in reality, life down there is continuing like normal.”

  “I know you aren’t serious about that, Senator Ballantine, but we actually tested that theory. We believe it would be impossible for such a radio silence to be orchestrated. We would at least be picking up the inter-communication between Earth’s satellites.”

  “The mystery seems unsolvable for the time being.”

  “From this far away, yes. In six months, we could decide to not enter Mars orbit and turn right back around. That would allow us to find out for ourselves what happened.”

  “If my information is correct, there is only one small problem with that. We wouldn’t have enough fuel to land.”

  “That is correct, Senator. We would need significantly more fuel to land on Earth than we would to land on Mars. Normally, we would be refueled in orbit around Earth.”

  “And yet presumably nobody would be expecting us.”

  “Right, Senator. The science division endorses following the original plan and landing on Mars. Once we have produced sufficient fuel there, we could consider returning to Earth.”

  “How long would that take?”

  “The next launch window would be in two years.”

  “Good, that’s all clear then. Rick, how is morale?”

  “In general, good. During the first couple of days after the announcement, the percentage of sick requests rose, but that has now returned to normal levels. To avoid any long-term effects, we should guarantee continuous psychological care.”

  “Organize that.”

  “Gladly,” Rick said.

  Along with the psychologists, h
e would personally visit every crew member. He still had two bugs to distribute.

  “Jean, are there any particular concerns from your end?”

  “No, everything’s running smoothly,” the captain replied.

  Rick’s overall impression of Jean was quite strange. It felt like she wasn’t really there, as if she wanted to disappear. With her gray clothing, gray hair, and gray eyes, she practically blended into the sofa upholstery. What was happening to her? He thought her name, Jean Warren, rang a bell. Wasn’t she a famous NASA astronaut?

  “Is there anything else... Maggie?”

  The pilot nodded. “As soon as possible, I would like to establish contact with the NASA crew on Mars. I think there is an opportunity to collaborate with them.”

  Two grooves formed across Ballantine’s forehead.

  “I must say that in my experience, collaboration with governmental entities—”

  “But that government no longer exists,” she interrupted. “They are just humans now, like us.”

  “Certainly, contact them. But don’t make any agreements or promises until you have spoken with me. Or with Rick, of course.”

  Sol 77, Mars surface

  Ewa sat up halfway, propping herself on the cot with her elbows. She studied her body. The emergency medical assistant had just helped her change her bandages, a process that, thanks to strong painkillers, was less stressful than she had feared. Her body still looked quite battered, as if a prizefighter had pounded her with all his might. And yet all the wounds were of her own making, because she had refused to give up. It was amazing what people were capable of.

  The medical program was satisfied with the progress of her recuperation. The infection in the skin on her shoulders and thighs had been curbed. In those spots where there were no injuries, her skin looked unnaturally pale. To prevent the risk of developing a vitamin D deficiency, she was supposed to receive ultraviolet exposure, but the medical program still advised against that. Ewa would have enjoyed taking a walk across the planet’s surface again, but the software wouldn’t agree to that either. It insisted that the skin covering her joints in particular needed more time to heal, and a spacesuit was especially ill-suited for that. The program gave her another ten days for her treatment, and after that, she could—and must—leave the ship.

  At least there was a fitness room. She had to clear it out first, but now she was able to work out every day. It had taken her a while to figure out which exercises worked well with her injuries. Compared to the past few months, this ship felt like paradise. And yet Ewa had to admit that she was gradually growing bored. She simply wasn’t made for sitting around. She wanted to figure out a way to get closer to her goal. She had to somehow gain access to the ship’s comp. This was the only way she would be able to steal Spaceliner 0’s drill and loader.

  But, first things first. She had to take care of Friday. She couldn’t let the thing in her head become a threat to her again. She needed the weapon that Friday had described.

  Ewa sat up on the cot and let her legs dangle to the floor.

  “The weapon I can use to keep you in check. What is it exactly, and where can I find it?” she asked out loud.

  ‘I was referring to a taser,’ Friday replied in her own voice, as had become the norm. ‘It shoots a metal dart at your victim and delivers a shock to him. It is a very practical weapon to use on board a ship. Shooting a pistol would be much too dangerous for the hull.’

  “And a taser shot isn’t lethal?”

  ‘Not for you. It is quite painful, though. You will writhe with cramps, but you will survive.’

  “And you, Friday?”

  ‘The miniaturized circuits I run on will be toast.’

  “Couldn’t I just stick my finger in an outlet?”

  ‘You’d run the risk of being killed, and we don’t want that,’ Friday replied.

  “Haha! You’ve put me in danger often enough.”

  ‘I only wanted to kill the others. That was simply my assignment.’

  “If the MfE project fails, I’ll also die eventually.”

  ‘Yes, that was a weakness in the plan. I was always afraid that moment would come. I possess a survival instinct, after all.’

  “I’m lucky you do. And how do I get my hands on a taser?”

  ‘The weapons must be located in one of the supply crates.’

  “There are hundreds of boxes on this ship. Do I have to open every one that isn’t labeled?”

  ‘That’s all you can do.’

  “So you have no idea where they might be? You promised me that I would find a weapon here I could use to shut you down.”

  ‘That claim was based on logical considerations. Every colony requires an executive authority that has the means to enforce its wishes. As long as humans live here inside domes, projectile weapons will be perilous for all sides, which is why you need something like tasers.’

  “And if all they packed were clubs?”

  ‘They wouldn’t be as efficient. Believe me. You’ll find tasers in one of the crates.’

  Ewa stood up with a sigh. She tried to estimate the number of boxes she had already seen on board. There had been hundreds of them. But she didn’t have anything else to do, either. If she opened a box a minute, it would take her two days at most.

  She decided to leave the sickbay. There were crates sitting around in here, too, but if there had been any logic at all behind the distribution of the supplies, she could safely assume that all she would find here were medicines and bandages.

  The first storeroom was located right next door. Ewa moved a few boxes to the side. The room seemed to be set up as a kind of office. In any case, she could see floor- and wall-mounted desks behind the crates. Bureaucracy would also thrive on Mars, that much was certain. However, what she discovered in the boxes weren’t forms of any kind, but rather all sorts of electronics. Paper wouldn’t be a viable resource for the Mars colony of course. There wouldn’t be any trees growing here on Mars for at least ten thousand years.

  The next room was also an office, but the contents of its boxes were different. The main things Ewa found here were replacement parts. She didn’t know what they went to, and she didn’t have the time to skim through the packing lists taped to the inside of the crate lids. Whoever was responsible for unpacking the supplies would know what to do with them.

  Two rooms on, she found the first boxes of food. These dried foods would likely meet the largest percentage of the colonists’ calories, protein, and fat needs. The grayish-brown powder was packaged in transparent sacks. Ewa preferred not to imagine what it tasted like. However, if you cooked it properly and augmented it with fresh herbs and spices, it probably wouldn’t taste all that bad.

  Ewa slowly managed to get a sense of the crates’ likely contents based on their external appearance. There was clearly a system in place here. This significantly quickened her work, since all she had to do was open the supply boxes with shapes and colors she didn’t recognize. She still had to move box after box to the side in order to see the color and form of each container further into the stacks.

  Ewa walked into the next room, sweating profusely. She raised her arm and sniffed. Yikes. It was high time she got into the shower. Fortunately, she was all alone on the ship.

  Three hours later, she sat down wearily on a food box she had just opened. She had found rice cakes inside it—the perfect excuse for a quick snack. Ewa ripped open the plastic packaging and found herself holding a lid made of rigid material. She tossed it carelessly on the floor, but picked it back up again and examined it. She recognized the logo of a prominent food company. Did that company still exist? What could have happened on Earth? Perhaps the people who were coming on Spaceliner I would know more.

  Ewa sighed and flipped the top over. The expiration date was printed there. What day was it today? Ewa had no clue. Since their landing, she had been counting in Mars days, in sols, but how long had she already been on this planet?

  Ewa bit into the
rice cake. It tasted slightly salty, just how she liked them. She felt the need to consciously remember how they tasted. At some point, all the rice cakes would be consumed if nobody had thought to pack rice seeds on board the ship. Her eyes fell on the plastic lid again. What looked like trash to her at the moment would someday become a sought-after resource. Mars certainly possessed the elements needed to create plastic, but it would be years before the corresponding reactors would be built. There was so much to do. Maybe she could help some with that. She would help the NASA people by taking them the drill from the ship’s hold.

  After she swallowed the last bite, she stood up and turned around. Eight crates were stacked one on top of the other against the left wall. She hadn’t checked those out yet. She recognized the color on three of them and knew they held replacement parts. The four lower ones had to contain more food. However, she didn’t recognize the dark green, blotchy-looking pattern on the last one. Ewa moved the other containers to the side, then reached for the green one. It was heavy, even in the reduced gravity here on Mars. Ewa barely managed to keep from dropping it. It had almost crushed her foot!

  Ewa knelt down. She opened the two clasps on the front, followed by the one on the back. Now she could lift the lid. It was made of wood, and the interior surface was rough. It even still smelled a little like the forest. Warm memories rose inside Ewa. And yet the woodsy smell was underscored by the scent of machine oil.

  The crate’s contents were packed in brown material that looked like oil-saturated paper. She reached in and felt hard metal. Tool or weapon? She pulled off the paper. Ha! What she was holding was obviously a gun, but definitely not a pistol. The object was black, its rectangular, yellow nozzle divided into two sections. The barrel was surprisingly thick. It looked like it had swallowed something that had gotten stuck in its middle, where the barrel reached its greatest girth.

  Ewa weighed the gun in her hand. It was very light. Ewa estimated it was about three hundred grams. What about its ammunition? She rummaged around in the box. She hoped they hadn’t packed the ammunition in some other crate. Her hand brushed against smaller objects, and she pulled one of them out. It was cubic in shape with two strange protrusions, and it had a yellow plastic cover. Ewa compared it to the gun. The cube should fit exactly into the muzzle. She turned it so the yellow cover was pointing away from the muzzle’s opening and shoved the object into the barrel. She heard a clicking sound, and then the cube was seated tightly. Ewa studied the weapon. Friday was right, she thought. This is a taser. Could she pull the trigger now? She didn’t see anything that warned her against doing that. The taser seemed to be complete. A lightning symbol had been printed on the yellow cover.

 

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