Silver Rabbit knew all this. If he wanted to successfully traverse Mars, he needed to know every possible structure he might run into. In this case, he also knew that the honeycombs didn’t pose a threat to him. Their surfaces were sunken, as though the honey that used to be there had dried up. He rolled over the edge of one of the cells and let gravity pull him down, his own momentum swinging him partway up the other side. When he slowed, he had to engage his motor to reach the rim between this cell and the next one.
Once he was out of the cell, Silver Rabbit reoriented himself. The sun had fallen below the horizon, but his star finder enabled him to quickly find both Mars moons. He was on a good trajectory. The data he possessed wasn’t the most current anymore—it was based on the time period when he was initially supposed to have fulfilled his mission on Mars, but he had used it to calculate a forecast for the coming days. The accuracy of these prognoses was typically close to 100 percent. He estimated that he would just barely miss his destination, and would have to cover the last part through visual analysis. That meant, as soon as he got close to his destination, he would have to switch from nighttime travel to day mode. Otherwise, he would just roll right past his destination during the hours of darkness.
Silver Rabbit used the planet’s gravitational pull to help. It was a constant give and take. Once he was on the floor of the honeycomb cell, the rolling robot had reached maximum momentum which he then quickly traded with the planet for potential energy. Then he needed a little chemical energy from his battery cells to pool all his potential energy into motion at the highest point. He found the planet a trustworthy partner. It didn’t mislead him with lateral winds, and although it put stones in his way, which he could roll around, it didn’t set any traps for him.
The robot thought about its siblings, at least that’s how it seemed, because even though he knew that their time had already long passed, he kept trying to coordinate with them through his radio transmitter. He called them, over and over again, because he’d been programmed to do that. His programmers couldn’t have known that Silver Rabbit would enter his mission much later and utterly alone. These continuous and fruitless connection attempts used energy—energy that the program hadn’t initially allowed for because, under normal circumstances, the other three robots would have answered him immediately. It wasn’t much energy, but enough that the gap between his consumption and his reserves was gradually increasing.
The moment came, and that was now, when Silver Rabbit noticed that he couldn’t reach his destination under these circumstances. He calculated whether it was better to stop. No, that wouldn’t help him either. He needed to keep rolling while he searched for a solution.
Sol 337, Holmes Crater
The rover wrestled with the edge of the crater. With its 120-kilometer diameter, the Holmes Crater belonged to the smaller of the topographical formations. The navigational computer had informed Ewa that she would make better progress if she took the easterly route around it. A section of the terrain was, however, especially rough. At about 10 kilometers, the rover needed to cross along a narrow ridge, because there was a smaller, but even deeper, unnamed crater directly adjacent to the east.
Since this morning, she had been able to see her destination on the horizon. It was a mountain unlike anything Ewa had ever seen before. The South Pole ice mass stuck to the planet like a monster-sized blob of bubble gum that had been stepped on by a giant. The horizon looked misshapen, and Ewa automatically tried rubbing her eyes to remove the obstacle.
Over billions of years, the ice and snow found at the Martian South Pole had grown into a mountain range resembling the shape of partially flattened bread dough, although towering many kilometers high. And somewhere in between, Friday presumed they might find the vestiges of its former inhabitants. If he was correct, how probable was it that they would be able to use the things left behind? Years ago, two old cars had been parked behind Ewa’s family home. As a child, they had seemed to her like remnants from a different industrial age because of their old-fashioned look, when in reality they were only 30 years old. Still, they had been thoroughly rusted. What would three billion years have done to the technology of the planet’s former inhabitants, no matter how advanced it was?
The rover gave her another good shaking. Ewa held on tightly to the armrests and admired the scenery. From the look of the crater to her left, it was undoubtedly the result of a meteorite collision and seemed relatively new. The typical protrusion in the center was still clearly recognizable. The rock that caused it must have fallen from directly above, since the crater was a perfect circle as best she could see. Its floor was covered with snow. The farther south she traveled, the more often she encountered snow-covered areas that survived the day’s warmth if they were protected by the shade of the crater’s walls. She assumed she would soon be driving over ice instead of the usual dust. Ewa needed to take into consideration that this would slow her down.
She looked to her right side through the hatch window. The Holmes Crater was so massive that it looked more like a valley. It also seemed quite old. The crater floor was at a noticeably higher altitude than that of the smaller crater to the left. It also had a structural pattern within it that resembled a network of ancient canals.
Ewa imagined how the manatee-like creatures inhabiting Mars had once farmed this area. Perhaps they’d used these canals as streets? Of course, she assumed, the creatures at the time lived primarily in the water, but at the same time they must have made productive use of the land. Humans also make fish farms, Ewa considered. Made, she immediately corrected herself.
Sol 337, Mars City
This time, Theo had a bad feeling. He wasn’t a natural pessimist by any means, but everything was going too smoothly. They were never interrupted during their meetings in the fitness room. How did the little resistance group around ex-captain Jean Warren always manage to keep the coast clear? Were they getting a little help from above?
Naturally, there were two other fitness rooms on board the two Spaceliner ships. Out here, the desolate rooms below the Mars surface were the home of only those people with menial jobs. But even among this group, there were still plenty of people who supported the administrator. Theo had experienced it already in several conversations.
Summers was a master of the horse and carrot concept. He had even erected a small casino where the workers could rack up impressive winnings. Of course, there was nowhere for anyone to spend these winnings, but the administrator promised that would change. And the majority of them believed him, because their lives had improved remarkably since they landed.
Theo opened the door, took a step into the room, and looked around. Jean was standing on the treadmill. He was glad to see her because he liked her a lot. She hadn’t let herself be corrupted. And, although she was only carrying out manual labor and was bored to death, she didn’t seem bitter.
“Ah, it’s you,” he said.
“Sounds like you mean ‘it’s you again,’” she answered, smiling.
“I didn’t mean it like that. But won’t Summers get suspicious of us meeting so often?”
“He’ll just assume we’re having an affair.”
Theo turned red. “Ah, yeah, right,” he stammered.
“Would that be such a strange thing?” asked Jean.
“No, of course not.” He forced himself to look her in the face and hold her gaze.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” said Jean. She started the treadmill.
Theo got on one of the stationary bikes and started to pedal. “Anything new?” he asked.
“Just a moment.” Jean stopped the treadmill, got off, and strode over to the wall where her jacket hung on one of the hooks. She took something that looked like a tablet from an inside pocket. She brought the device over to Theo. “Look,” she said, “this is camera footage from the bridge this morning.”
Jean tapped on the screen, and Theo recognized the room full of monitors that was being filmed from an overhead a
ngle. Three astronauts in Spaceliner uniforms were sitting at three separate, staggered tables.
“What have you got for me?” It was the administrator’s voice. He was not in the camera frame.
“Summers,” said Jean.
Theo nodded.
“Radar images from the probe,” explained a female astronaut at the frontmost table.
“That’s Maggie,” Jean stated. “She’s one of us.”
Theo tried to see what the radar images showed, but the contents of the small screen were too hard to make out on Jean’s even smaller tablet. Luckily, Maggie explained to the administrator what was there.
“Long Journey 2 looks to be in good shape externally. The ship is positioned counter to its direction of movement,” she said while concentrating on her screen. “Oh,” she exclaimed suddenly.
“What is it?” asked Summers.
“They activated the engines. That means the ship is decelerating.”
“So, the Chinese are still alive?” asked the administrator.
“We are still not receiving any signs of life from them. The braking maneuver could have been programmed,” Maggie explained.
Jean took her tablet out of Theo’s hand. “Let me just fast forward a little,” she said. She tapped on the screen and gave him the device back. On the central display on Maggie’s table, a red circle moved from left to right.
“1,900 degrees,” the astronaut commented.
“2,020 degrees.”
“2,100 degrees.”
“What can the ship withstand?” asked Summers.
“We don’t know yet,” Maggie answered. “If it’s a normal design and aerobraking was included as part of the original concept, maybe 2,500.”
“They are braking using the atmosphere,” Theo commented as he watched the recording.
“Yes, and it must have been goddamn hot inside their ship,” answered Jean.
“2,220 degrees,” Maggie said in the video.
“2,350 degrees.”
“2,470 degrees.”
“If they don’t abort soon, the atmosphere will fry them,” Summers commented.
Was that schadenfreude he’d just heard in the administrator’s voice? Theo scratched his chin.
“2,550 degrees,” said Maggie, seemingly unaffected. “They can’t abort. The maneuver has to finish as planned.”
“And the end result is a Chinese stir fry, or what?” asked Summers.
“We don’t know what the cabin can withstand,” Maggie replied calmly. “But the braking maneuver is working. When this ordeal is finished, they’ll enter orbit.”
“Then we’ll be getting a visit?” asked the administrator.
“We don’t know,” said Maggie. Theo admired her patience. “A Mars orbit is not the same as a landing. But—theoretically speaking—they could be here as soon as tomorrow.”
Jean gently took the tablet from him. “That was the gist of it,” she said. “The administrator is preparing an expedition to the landing site.”
“But they don’t even know yet when and where...” Theo’s voice trailed off.
“Of course not. But for us, it’s important that we know they will be needing two good rover drivers. One of their top two is—unfortunately—currently suffering from an acute upset stomach. It seems it was something he ate.”
“Already? Isn’t that a little too early?”
“Let’s just say, he will be out for a while. We’re keeping an eye on him. It means that you will be recruited as a replacement, Theo. The administrator has already been informed of your extensive rover expedition to the ice crater. He needs people like you.”
“That’s incredible news,” said Theo. “I can finally get out of here for a little while!”
Sol 338, Flammarion Crater
He would fail to reach his destination by exactly 1.2 kilometers. His energy consumption was still too high, but he simply couldn’t stop trying to contact his brothers. This routine was buried deep inside the layers of his operating system and was something his highly sophisticated operational processor could not access. He was aware of what he was doing wrong, but had no way to control it.
It was frustrating. Silver Rabbit was programmed to reach his destination. Coming an entire 1.2 kilometers short of that didn’t meet the goal. He simply wasn’t able to absorb enough energy from the sun during the day to make up for what he needed at night.
But the problem must be solvable. Silver Rabbit went through his defined conditions. The most crucial factor was the amount of time he spent in the daylight. Ahead of him lay the high wall of the Flammarion Crater. If there were anywhere he could find maximal sunlight, it was there. He decided to change his course. He had access to this data. He might reach his destination late, but he wasn’t going to allow himself to fall more than a kilometer short.
Just before daybreak, he reached an optimal position at the edge of the crater. Silver Rabbit went to sleep.
Sol 340, MfE Base
The world jumped back and forth.
That was because the light on her helmet was bouncing in rhythm with her steps, and the small cutout view of the world she saw shifted in the same rhythm. In the surrounding area where the beam of her light didn’t fall, it was dark. Whatever was there could just as easily not exist. There was no way for her to know, was there? Which of the old philosophers had said that?
Rebecca enjoyed these solitary walks. She deliberately set out long before sunrise. It was as dark as ever just before the sun started to ascend above the horizon. A dense layer of dust over her head filtered the light of the stars, as though their dim shine needed to be dimmed even more. She stopped and bent her head all the way back. The light on her helmet illuminated the cloud of dust. It seemed to be only three or four meters above her and was slowly falling, enveloping her, and burying her under zillions of dust particles.
Rebecca was not afraid of it. It was only an illusion that made her shiver in horror-show fashion. She would have enjoyed talking to Theo about it. He would have liked her idea, expanded on it, and added a few more horrors to it. They shared a similar sense of humor.
But he wasn’t here.
She looked at her universal device. The screen’s backlight wasn’t working. She tapped on it a few times until it turned on. These old MfE suits were annoying. If only she had one of the modern Spaceliner models, too! The status display told her she had covered six kilometers and that the sun would be appearing in a few minutes. For that, the sky is still pretty damn dark, she thought. Rebecca turned around. The layer of dust must have been the reason there was no sign of the sunrise in the east.
She switched over to the map. At 150 meters to the west sat a small hill, maybe around 50 meters high. She turned and headed in that direction. The incline was surprisingly steep. That’s not fifty meters, it feels more like eighty, she thought before she reached the top. By now, something was happening on the eastern horizon. The layer of dust was taking on a milky tinge. She felt as though she were standing at the bottom of a milk bottle, but, by some miracle, its contents were suspended just above her head, keeping her from drowning in it.
Something moved on the horizon. It was tiny and quick, and it was jumping. She thought of a gazelle chasing through the wilderness. A rover couldn’t move that fast. Wasn’t that the direction they assumed the Japanese probe to be, the one that Walter had wanted to find? Yes.
The perspective was deceptive. The moving object was closer than she had thought. It had to be about the size of a bicycle wheel, maybe a little bigger. Walter must have found the probe! It wouldn’t be long now before he returned to the base himself. He would have sent the robot ahead.
Rebecca took a deep breath and ran down the hill, the beam on her headlamp dancing wildly. She estimated how fast the robot was moving. It rolled straight towards the MfE camp. Walter would have reprogrammed it, ordering it to go there. Rebecca picked which direction she should go to intersect its path.
However, she must have miscalculated. No, sh
e realized, the robot was slowing down. She adjusted her angle, but the robot came to a halt one meter before the point she’d estimated their paths would cross. She walked up to it slowly, as though it were a wild animal that needed to be calmed.
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?” she asked.
Of course she got no answer, but the robot jerked slightly as if it were giving her a signal. She knelt down in front of it. It was a simple but intelligent construction with limited battery space. That must be the problem. When the sky was clouded by dust, like it was today, its photocells couldn’t absorb enough energy, and its reserves wouldn’t suffice. She tested her theory on the control module at the center of the sphere where a couple of lights and buttons were located. The lights were off, and none of the buttons reacted.
Rebecca stood up again. Out of curiosity, she tried to lift the robot by one of its feet. Thanks to the low gravitational pull on Mars, the robot wasn’t heavy, but its spherical shape made it difficult to carry. Rebecca held it in front of her stomach and started walking. She needed a break every 200 meters or so. After the first kilometer, she tried to strap it to her back, but it was too bulky, and she didn’t have any bungee cords along to help her. She sighed and continued as before. Only 5 kilometers left to go.
It took her an hour and a half to reach the base. Ellen had radioed her 30 minutes ago, concerned because Rebecca had said she was just going out for a short walk. So, everyone knew what she was bringing with her.
Ellen came out to meet her, and they carried the robot the last 500 meters together. That made it much easier. They set it down outside the airlock. It wasn’t hard to get the robot into the chamber, and Ellen crawled in after it and sat down, rolling it onto her lap. This way, it would only take two steps for them to enter the base with the robot. Everyone was waiting for them.
Mars Nation: The Complete Trilogy Page 71