Ewa climbed back down the ladder and repeated her Tarzan jump from before. In doing so, she had forgotten about the pain running down her left side. For the next few minutes, all she could do was hang on and gasp until it subsided again. She got to work. Incredibly, the hacksaw managed to nibble away at the chain bit by bit, but it was damned slow going. In ten minutes, she had sawed only one millimeter into the steel. After twenty minutes, she was two millimeters into it. She reached the third millimeter a half an hour after she had begun, at the exact moment her suit announced that the power reserves in her joints were now fully depleted.
The links of the chain measured about 2.5 centimeters. That meant she had to repeat what she had accomplished up till now another seven times. And her suit wasn’t going to be of any help to her anymore. She needed another way.
Ewa closed her eyes. The cool air inside her helmet slowly dried the humid mixture of sweat and tears on her skin. She could just fall backwards. No one would miss her. No one was expecting her to ever finish the task she had given herself. No one had even asked her to do it. She had brought this all upon herself, so she was free at any time to stop if she thought she wouldn’t make it.
But quitting was out of the question. She had never been a coward in her life. And giving up would be an act of cowardice, an act based on fear of the pain that would inevitably follow. She would gnaw through the chain with her own teeth if she had to. Ewa imagined that the individual link was a face. It was laughing at her inability to solve the problem. That was what made Ewa furious. She would love to just smash it!
Hmm. Steel would shatter under certain circumstances if it was hit with something. It just needed to be cold enough, then it would become brittle. Everything that had been sent to Mars for the Spaceliner project was intended to acclimate to the overwhelmingly frigid temperatures that prevailed here. Anywhere from minus eight degrees to minus one hundred—those chains were undoubtedly made of the most expensive specialty steel. But there was no requirement that the material needed to withstand a temperature of minus one hundred ninety-six degrees, the boiling point for liquid nitrogen. That just might be the ticket! If she found a flask of nitrogen somewhere in the vehicle, she’d be able to cool down the link—and then smash it.
One more time, she jumped down, climbed up the ladder, and searched through the inventory list for nitrogen. Hadn’t she even packed a bottle of it back on the supply ship? Ewa tried to recall her departure from the Spaceliner supply ship. Yes. At the last minute she remembered having seen a bottle of nitrogen standing by itself on the ship. It must be here in the cab.
Ewa rummaged through all the cabinets and drawers. Then she remembered that she had stowed the container in one of the compartments in the floor. Ha! Now she would show that chain who was boss. Along with the bottle of nitrogen, she took along the bolt cutter, tucking it into her tool belt. She needed something with which to smash the chain, and that seemed to be just the tool for the job.
Her third Tarzan attempt at landing on the drill head ended a little wobbly. She hadn’t jumped as far as she should have, and just managed to steady herself so as not to lose either the bottle or the bolt cutter. She gripped the bottle between her legs with the valve aimed at the chain’s link, then opened the vent. A thick fog of icy cold gas sprayed out, enveloping the link and cooling it. A thin layer of ice formed on the chain in the intense cold, despite the almost complete lack of water vapor in the Mars atmosphere. Perhaps this was dry ice made up of carbon dioxide.
Ewa forced herself to be patient. She was anxious to try out her idea, to see if it would work. However, that would have been foolish. The steel would then have a chance to warm up again. She had only the one bottle, and it would have to suffice. She used it until it was almost empty. Her big moment was near.
The bottle contained a surprisingly large amount of nitrogen. It was a hardcore test of her patience. But then it was finally time. She let the bottle drop to the ground. It was now or never. Ewa grasped the bolt cutter with her right hand, since she had more strength in it, and held on with her left. She swung the cutter against the chain as hard as she could, and then slammed it against the steel a second time. She felt the blow, as it sent waves of pain through her body. She didn’t hear or see anything, and had no idea whether or not she was being successful. Like a madwoman, she swung at the chain over and over again. This was her only chance. There weren’t any other options. It had to work.
Then she realized she was falling. She was positive she hadn’t let go, but her hand was still slipping downward. She had no idea what had happened until the drill head crashed to the ground: She had done it! The chain had broken, and the drill pipe was freed. The vehicle was also free now, and she could set her plan in action. What was that plan again? It didn’t matter. She needed to rest first.
As if in a trance, she climbed back up the ladder, closed the cab’s hatch behind her, started the life support system, ripped off her suit, and fell dead tired onto her cot.
10/3/2042, Spaceliner 1
“Rick?”
He lifted his arm. The flight manager was calling him. Rick had just begun his inspection round of the ship. Everyone knew that starting at 11:00 he inspected all the areas, and everyone also knew that he hated to be disturbed while doing so. Maggie Oh, the young FM, had been quite compliant with that up to now.
Rick assumed that she was nurturing the hope that she would eventually be allowed to replace the demoted captain. If, despite this, Maggie was still interrupting him, it had to be important. Thus, he replied, “What is it, Maggie?”
“I have here a message from a Gabriella Fortini on an encrypted channel. The signal was transmitted to us by a Russian Mars satellite.”
Fortini. If he remembered correctly, she was the doctor for the MfE project. She had already notified him that she was prepared to collaborate. It seemed fitting that her message had been sent via a Russian satellite. As far as he knew, MfE had rented the Russian’s transmission capacity because it had been cheaper than all the other options.
“Maggie? Please forward the message to my cabin.”
“I already did.”
“Thank you, Maggie. You really are doing a great job. Your future is bright,” Rick said, concluding the call.
If the woman would simply show herself a little more amenable in private, she’d already be captain, he thought. All she ever showed him was a cold shoulder. However, Rick knew that success was rooted in persistence. It was beneficial enough to have her as an ally. He would eventually find the right woman for himself.
Rick practically flew back to his quarters. The sense that another of his plans was about to come to fruition gave him wings. The fact that he couldn’t share this triumph with anyone was simply a drop of bitterness. He shut the cabin door before pulling the radio scanner out of his desk and checking every corner of his cabin. If there was a bug in here communicating with the outside world via radio waves, he would find it. He was obsessive about doing this inspection, every single time he entered his room. After all, others might develop ideas similar to the ones he had. But he would never fall into their traps.
The cabin was clean. Rick was satisfied. “Computer, play the message from Gabriella Fortini,” he ordered.
“Authorization required.”
He held his face up to the camera so it could analyze the pattern of his iris and measure his body temperature, the latter to confirm he was actually alive.
“Authorization confirmed,” the computer voice said. “Playing message.”
On the screen, a low-res image of a woman—probably meant to conserve the transmission capacity—appeared. She was well over thirty and had wavy hair. He couldn’t make out her eye color. He liked what he saw of Gabriella. And she was clearly smart enough to not blow an opportunity with the power players among the suddenly much smaller human race. He felt flattered.
“Hello, Rick,” she said cheerfully. “I’m using this chance moment of privacy to provide you with what might
be valuable information. A former member of the MfE project has stolen two vehicles from your supply ship. The woman’s name is Ewa Kowalska, and she has been banished by our initiative. This means she isn’t acting in our name, nor does she have our support. I hope very much that you will take this into consideration in our future dealings with each other.”
The woman shook her hair a little. Rick was completely fascinated.
“I know it won’t be possible for you to respond to me for practical reasons. I have started this transmission without anyone else’s knowledge, and hope that from your end, our direct connection can remain a secret. My position here would be jeopardized otherwise. I won’t lie. The mega-corporation behind your project isn’t viewed all that favorably by the MfE members. We will have to work together to change this opinion. After all, only by consolidating all our resources can we secure the long-term survival of humanity.”
Yes, young lady, you’re damned right about that. And that consolidation will happen under my control.
“With this, I bid you farewell until we can meet in person in six weeks.”
Ciao, bella, he thought, I’m really looking forward to meeting you in person. Italian women had a reputation as passionate lovers. Chilly Maggie could just keep her distance.
Sol 107, NASA base
Ewa woke up needing to relieve herself. She took care of that, then sat down cross-legged on her mat. Yesterday’s events seemed like a dream to her. It wasn’t one of her better dreams. It was too painful for that. But she remembered the good feeling that came when something went according to plan. This had been a rare feeling in recent times, but that didn’t bother her. She didn’t deserve anything different. The NASA astronauts didn’t deserve this. They had offered to help without being obligated to do that, and as thanks, she had stolen their ship from them. And it was through Ewa’s intervention that their Mars station was now broken as well.
How far away might they be already? Or were they going to wait it out in their damaged base? Ewa wanted to know, but she didn’t feel up to asking over the radio.
It was too early for that. She first needed to implement her plan. The drill pipe was no longer in the way—it was lying on its side on the ground, instead. Although it wouldn’t be easy to someday get the drill operational again, it shouldn’t be impossible. If there was to be any kind of future for them, she needed total flexibility with the drill vehicle. She looked out the window. The mountain seemed to have grown larger. That was her destination.
She rummaged around in the food supplies and found a few dry oat flakes. That wasn’t important. The main thing was for her stomach to feel full. She drank some water after eating them, then brushed her teeth. That would have to suffice for today. She thought nostalgically about the warm spray of a shower as she pulled on a diaper and her thermal underwear.
It’s strange, she thought, that the Spaceliner suits spare us having to train as much and increase our strength, but they still haven’t solved the problem of human excretions. The human body simply wasn’t made to vegetate within a closed system. Since this system wasn’t likely to change much on Mars in the foreseeable future, they might be forced to adapt their own bodies. Ewa shuddered at the thought, even though it was logical. Fortunately, she wouldn’t be around long enough to experience it.
She checked the charge level of her spacesuit before she climbed into it. Last night, she had plugged the suit into the electrical outlet in the cab. The artificial muscles were now operational again. All the suit’s resources—from oxygen to the water and food pulp which she could sip from a flexible tube—were topped off. She wiped the inside of the helmet one more time. The interior of the visor was only a few centimeters from her nose, but as soon as Ewa was stuck inside her suit, that panel was the hardest-to-reach spot in the entire universe for her.
The most dangerous thing that could occur while she was outside wasn’t an unexpected meteorite strike, but the onset of nausea which might cause her to vomit inside her helmet. If you didn’t want to die, you kept your mouth closed and swallowed hard, regardless of how you felt. That had been her trainer’s advice for such instances. It was odd that she was thinking about this right now. She couldn’t recall the trainer’s face, but she sure remembered his vivid warning.
She reached for the helmet fastener, but then hesitated. She could actually wait a little. If the cab developed a leak, she could always close the visor. She sat down on the driver’s seat with her helmet open. She turned on the screen and switched it over to the tower configuration. This time, everything worked. The hydraulic system lifted the two spoon-like side arms upward, and they raised the powerful tower with them. Oh, the miracle of technology!
Ewa switched to the drive program. The software warned that the vehicle wasn’t yet ready to depart, but she quickly overrode the program manually. She needed the tower to be upright. She was now back in control of the chassis. She reached for both levers. It was only a few hundred meters, but she had to be careful. With the tower upright, held in place by the hydraulic system, it was almost as if she was balancing—hands-off—a raw egg on her head. She pressed the accelerator very cautiously. Centimeter by centimeter, the drill crept forward. She wasn’t in a hurry.
But then the movement stopped without any warning appearing on the screen. She pushed the accelerator levers. Now the program responded. It indicated that the tires were spinning. What was going on? Ewa wiped her forehead. There had to be an obstacle in her way. She thought about her hike up the mountain. She hadn’t seen anything in front of the vehicle. That meant something must be wrong with the drill head. Maybe it hadn’t tilted over, but was still standing upright. She couldn’t think of any other explanation. In that case, the vehicle wouldn’t have enough ground clearance.
Ewa’s mind worked feverishly. She could climb out of the cab and try to push the drill pipe over by hand. David versus Goliath. Or she could set Goliath’s big brother in motion and simply force the drill head over. If she reversed a little and then rammed the obstacle at about five kilometers per hour, the inertia of the vehicle’s hundreds of tons should actually make the drill head fall over. It would be out of the way then. However, she was uncertain if the tower would cooperate, considering that it was merely hanging on one of the crossbeams between the two spoons. If it started swinging, it could pull the entire vehicle over with it. Just like that, her plan would fail, even before it had really gotten going.
Ewa reached for the control lever. She had to take the risk. She pulled it back, causing the vehicle to slowly roll backward, before punching it to speed forward. She watched the speed gauge. The number—indicated down to the centimeter—crept toward five. Ewa barely noticed that she was moving. The drill was rolling very gradually. However, thanks to its sheer mass, it was building powerful momentum. She should reach the obstacle momentarily.
Would her gamble pay off? If her luck ran out, the vehicle would shove the drill head aside, but the impact would destabilize the tower and make the vehicle tip over. Three... two... one... there was a muffled clattering at her feet. The drill vehicle didn’t seem to care about this, but just kept rolling on. Ewa checked the tower on the screen. It was swinging a little, but only ten degrees from center in either direction at most. The beams could handle that.
She had done it! At least, so far. The most precarious part was still to come. She looked out the window. The mountain was rapidly approaching. She estimated one hundred fifty meters to go. The plan was to drive up it as fast as possible. In the unavoidable collision, she hoped the heavy tower would tip forward and gouge a hole in the skin of this boil that had grown so quickly on the Mars surface.
The plan had only one weak spot. She had no idea how stable the tower’s structure was, and which forces the hydraulic system could compensate for. In an ideal scenario, she would drive as fast as possible, but the tower might tip too early. As a result of her ramming of the drill pipe, she knew that five kilometers per hour didn’t present any problems. What would h
appen at fifteen kilometers per hour? She had driven that fast before, but only when the tower was lying horizontally on the vehicle’s bed. Could the tower withstand this speed when upright, at least until she crashed into the mountain?
Ewa made a gut decision. Fifteen kilometers per hour was perhaps too fast, but ten might be too slow. Twelve sounded good. She pushed the two control levers forward. Instead of the mountain in front of the vehicle, she focused on the monitor, which was showing the tower’s rate of oscillation. Despite the acceleration, the massive tower remained surprisingly steady. The lower section swung a little bit backward and forward. The large mass was a real advantage in this circumstance. A monolith like this didn’t set itself in motion all that quickly. She hoped this wouldn’t bring her calculations to naught. After all, the vehicle slamming into the mountain was supposed to make the tower tip over. She increased her speed up to fifteen kilometers per hour.
She held her breath. It was about time. Ewa could see the crease as the mountain towered right over her. She hoped the cab wouldn’t tear from its anchors. She hadn’t thought about that before. She quickly closed her helmet on the off chance that the cab would be damaged.
There was a jolt. The inertia wrenched against her safety belt. The drill vehicle was still upright, the mountain a short distance away. She watched on the display as the tower swung because of the sudden stop, but it didn’t fall. She had to thank her lucky stars, but why had the vehicle come to a halt? What had gone wrong now?
The sand, she suddenly recalled. Considering how large the tires were, they must have buried themselves in the sand that had been deposited at the foot of the mountain. In anger, Ewa beat her fists against the cab’s console as tears trickled down her cheeks. The mountain was practically within reach! The sand hadn’t brought the vehicle to a stop with a great crash, but had done so gradually. The tower had been about to tip over. Ewa estimated the distance. It would have been close enough! The upper part of the tower would have hit the mountain, but it hadn’t fallen.
Mars Nation: The Complete Trilogy Page 48