Destination Mars - Part 2

by Jack Webber

  The events of the morning were pushed aside, like a nightmare that is best forgotten, though the memory would continue to haunt their thoughts and dreams from time to time over the next few months.

  NINE

  "Easy, you're coming down too fast." Nova reached over and helped Hans adjust the stick. "That's better." She pulled her hand away, but kept her eye on the gauges, and the ground below.

  "Thirty feet," she called out, "twenty feet, fifteen, ten, six, three, you're on the ground. Nicely done."

  Hans shut down the motor and leaned back in his seat, heaving a sigh of relief.

  "You were great." reassured Nova. "And look," she pointed out the window, "the body's only 50 feet away. Accuracy is a plus; we don't want to hike around in this heat."

  They took their shades and a body bag and left the helicopter, walking slowly towards Squanto. She was lying face down on the ground, as John had left her, but her clothes hung loosely on her emaciated frame.

  Hans took pictures from every angle, his camera in one hand and the shade in the other.

  "Ok," he called out; I think she's ready for transport. Do we know anything about her?"

  "Not a thing." replied Nova. "Somebody spotted the body yesterday and called the station. Nobody is reported missing. We'll probably have to wait for the DNA scan."

  She turned the body over and studied the dried leathery skin of the face and arms. It was cracked in several places, but there was no liquid inside, only a deep brown stain where blood had seeped out in the past. "I think she's been here for months." concluded Nova.

  Hans lifted the head and shoulders and slid the body bag beneath. "I could almost pick her up with one arm." he exclaimed. "Did she starve to death?"

  "Not likely. The sun and the heat have driven most of the water from her body, and remember, we're about 60% water. Besides, she was a small woman to begin with."

  Hans finished bagging the body and draped it over his shoulder. "Grab my shade, would you?"

  Nova picked up the second shade as they walked back to the helicopter. "Another nice thing you'll notice, there's virtually no smell. The tissues dried out before decomposition could begin."

  Hans put the body in the back, and then climbed into the driver's seat. "Ready to fly again?" asked Nova.

  "Sure." He started the motor and moved the joystick forward.

  The obedient helicopter followed his command, rising high into the sky.

  They flew back to the station and landed in the heliport. Hans cut the motor as the roof closed overhead.

  A policeman came out to meet them. "Need any help?" he offered as Nova climbed out of the cab.

  "Don't think so. The body's pretty light."

  "Ok. Room 3 is available in pathology."

  The policeman walked away as Nova lifted the body out of the trunk. Hans shut down the copter and closed the doors. "You gonna hike the body all the way to pathology?" he asked.

  "Sure. You said it yourself, it's pretty light."

  They entered the station proper and walked down one hallway, and then another, then turned into room 3.

  Nova opened the bag and laid the body out on the table. She put the bag in the corner and came back with a tray of equipment.

  "All right, let's see what we got, starting with her identity."

  Nova took out a tiny drill and explained the procedure. "In these cases, most of the DNA is degraded. You have to go down deep; the center of an internal organ, or the cells of the bone marrow. Personally I prefer the latter."

  She drilled a hole in the hip bone and pulled some liquid up into her syringe. A few minutes later the analysis was complete. Hans read the report.

  "Viable DNA. X X female. Identity unknown. No genetic disorders. Seventeen genetic predispositions, as listed below. Eleven physical traits, as listed below." Hans looked up from the report. "What does that mean, identity unknown?"

  "It means she's a non-person, probably with the underground. I've only seen this once before. They manage to evade the DNA database completely, despite the best efforts of our government. Sometimes I think the government's involved. And sometimes I don't know what to think. As I say, it's very rare. You'll probably see one or two in your entire career, and that's about it. One thing's sure, if it was murder, we probably won't be able to crack the case. The killer is, I'm willing to bet, another member of the underground, and untraceable."

  Hans lifted one arm and palpated the biceps and triceps. The muscles were stiff and thin, like strips of human jerky hidden beneath leathery skin. "You think she was murdered?"

  "Sure." replied Nova. "That's a great place to dump a body, at least in the summer, and why else would anybody be there?"

  Hans looked at Squanto's face, her eyes sunken to one fifth their original size. They seemed to swim about in their sockets, attached only by a thread. The tongue was thin and flat, with the shape of a potato chip. Hans moved the tip and found it somewhat pliable, another piece of dried meat.

  "Look at this." commented Nova as she pulled out the heart. "You can see a bit of decay here. There's still a little moisture left inside."

  Putrid slime dripped off the surface of the heart, while blood, as thick as molasses, oozed from the severed arteries and veins.

  "You'll also find some decay in the brain and abdomen, but that's about it."

  "Cause of death?" Hans inquired.

  "Nothing obvious, but I'm still looking. She was probably killed with toxins, rather than blunt trauma, and after several weeks in the sun, I don't think the tox screen is going to find anything. But we'll run the tests anyways; you never know."

  Nova spotted the cut on Squanto's neck, where the pellet had been injected, but the breech had split into a crack, and it looked just like the other cracks in the dried skin. If the pellet had remained in place Nova certainly would have noticed it, but it fell out onto the scorched earth long ago, lost forever among the tiny rocks and pebbles that formed the bottom of the desiccated pond.

  Nova stood up and spoke into her recorder. "Cause of death, unknown. Identity unknown. Probable categorization, murder. Case disposition, unresolved and closed."

  She turned off the recorder, bringing the autopsy to an end. "We can't incinerate the body," stated Hans, "since you just declared it a murder."

  "Right. The body is evidence, and we have to keep it in deep freeze for 30 years. It's the law. I suppose I should have saved the taxpayers some money and called it an accident, as these underground murders are rarely solved, but that's just not my way. Who knows; we might stumble upon a crucial piece of evidence someday, and crack the case. Meantime, into the morgue she goes."

  They washed up and walked to the commissioner's office, where Nova reported her findings.

  "A non-person eh? We don't get many of those." He looked at the two of them, then back to his console on the desk. "You've filed your report?"

  "Yes."

  "Ok, I'll read it tomorrow. It's getting late, and I'm about ready to call it a day." He glanced at the clock. "Why don't you do the same; not much else happening around here today. Sergeant Thompson will take the body over to the morgue and catalogue it."

  "Thank you." said Nova and Hans in unison, as they stepped out into the hallway. They walked to the main entrance and called for separate cars. "Another day, another leppa." said Nova, and Hans merely nodded.

  TEN

  The Larses stepped out of their car, heads shaved and suitcases in hand. They stood outside a small terminal with its own runway and a fleet of steam-hardened planes.

  John led the way as they went inside. The Mars bound passengers were visible at a glance. They were bald, or they wore hats, the latter being sound advice given the sun.

  Mark and Tania wore Reds baseball caps, gifts from Ellare that were under-utilized, until now. Most of the children wore caps of some kind, turning embarrassment into a "cool" status symbol.

  A dozen families stood in line at the counter, and Mellissa groaned. They arrived an hour early, and t
here were no other flights departing from this terminal, so she didn't expect delays, but interplanetary travel entails even more paperwork than international travel, and the passengers shifted from foot to foot as the agent validated each ticket and each piece of luggage.

  The Larses were sixth in line with several families behind them, when a tall man with dark hair tapped John on the shoulder. He carried a suitcase, but he was not in line. And he wasn't going to Mars, not with that thick head of hair.

  "Perhaps he's a worker," thought John, "starting a six month tour of duty on the elevator. That's a job I wouldn't want."

  "Yes?" said John.

  "Your friend Ellare," the stranger began, "he says you can be trusted. I need you to take this to Mars." He pointed to the suitcase.

  "I don't carry anything for anybody...", but John was interrupted.

  "Ellare said I should give you the code word Marsupial."

  That was the true password that they had agreed on, if either of them got into trouble. The false password, which Ellare would give under duress, was Reptile.

  This man had obtained the true password, yet John was still suspicious. The penalty for smuggling contraband to Mars was particularly brutal.

  "What's in the case?" he asked.

  "Best if you don't know, for now, but you'll find out soon enough. You have to open the case within 24 hours. You should be on the elevator by then, in your own private stateroom. The access code is 27913." He pointed to a keypad on the side of the trunk.

  "If you are asked to open it by an inspector, type 16935. Remember those two numbers and don't get them mixed up. The latter will vaporize the contents. Molecular bonds will be shattered, and you will have only a pile of elements and simple compounds. The energy will be reabsorbed by the walls of the case."

  John had heard about these smuggling cases. The technology was staggering. Along with the self destruct feature, the case included an x-ray re-router.

  When x-rays struck one side of the case, they were absorbed, and the opposite side of the case emitted x-rays in a pattern that resembled clothes and toys. Sometimes a savvy security officer would turn the case, to see if the picture changed, but this model was able to detect the direction of the incoming x-rays and re-emit x-rays on the other side, in the same direction, and with the proper perspective. There would be a delay of a millisecond or so, as the computer recalculated the image, but the officer would never notice.

  "Remember, 24 hours. After that the contents will self destruct on their own."

  "Give me the codes again." said John. The tall man leaned over and whispered them into John's ear, then stepped away. John picked up the suitcase, which was heavy with technology. But it was under the weight limit, he was sure of that, and since Mark and Tania only had one bag each, they could accommodate one more piece of luggage as a family. He rehearsed the codes in his mind as they stood in line.

  John stepped up to the desk and presented his tickets. "You'll need to keep these tickets." commented the agent. "The captain of the transport will want to see them. I'll check your luggage here; Personal identification and security takes place at the jet way. There will be another inspection on the transport, and a final inspection before you set foot on Mars. Do you understand?"

  The Larses nodded.

  "Now how many bags today?"

  One by one John lifted the luggage onto the platform. He made sure the mystery case was neither first nor last.

  The agent turned it and watched the x-ray image change, then decided it was innocuous and reached for the next bag. "These will be taken directly to your stateroom on the transport," she reminded, "so make sure there is nothing in here that you will need for your five hour layover."

  "I have the tickets in hand," said John, "and I don't think we need anything else."

  "Well some people forget about medicines and the like, then the transport is delayed, and they're in trouble." She checked the last bag. "You can go to the gate."

  Tania glommed onto the last orange couch big enough for four, and Mark pulled out a deck of cards. They still had a half hour ahead of them.

  John found an issue of Scientific World, and Mellissa watched the other passengers. She liked people watching, though John thought it was a complete waste of time.

  "Government Air, flight 276, now leaving for the elevator, with connections to Mars. Passengers in rows 1 through 10 may board."

  There was no first class on Government Airlines, so the Larse's forward seat assignment didn't mean anything, except that they were the first to board.

  They identified themselves at the counter and passed through the sniff chamber separately, then reconvened in the cabin.

  There were two seats on either side of the aisle, and Mellissa let the children choose. Tania wanted a window seat, but Mark did not, so he sat next to John on the right, while Tania and Mellissa took the left.

  They fiddled with their flight bags, and seatbelts, and headsets, waiting for all the passengers to board.

  Finally the cabin door closed and a voice broke in over the intercom. This was a human voice, rather than the synthesized voice John had heard on the way to Siberia.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Captain Rollins and I'll be your pilot today. As you probably know, computers make better pilots than humans; most of the time, but this run is an exception. We'll be flying through layers of steam, and landing on a floating barge with a rather short runway. I can usually let the computer run the show, but I have taken the controls before, and I'm ready to do so again if need be."

  The plane taxied out to its runway.

  "We'll be using traditional jet engines up to Mach 7, and then we'll switch to scramjets for the trek across the Indian Ocean. As we approach the equator we'll drop back to subsonic, using turbo jet engines, and finally we'll cut over to our liquid oxygen supply, since there isn't enough oxygen near the surface to support combustion. Most of it has been displaced by steam."

  The plane turned onto the runway and began to rev its engines.

  "Prepare for acceleration; we're taking off."

  The computer released the breaks and the plane rolled forward, gathering speed at a steady rate. It left the runway and climbed into the sky as Tania watched out her window with the fascination of a child. They flew out over the ocean, then went supersonic. Three minutes later the scramjets kicked in, and they were on their way.

  John ordered a glass of wine, which he paid for with the dregs of his savings account. The kids ordered soft drinks and listened to modern music, rehashed songs stamped out in cookie cutter fashion, designed to attract the teen and pre-teen markets. They weren't very interesting, and John was glad the kids had headsets. He looked out the window as the plane raced across the dark blue ocean, peaceful and serene.

  The hour passed by quickly. Mark and Tania remained inside their musical worlds, and John was content to read his in-flight magazine.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, we are approaching the equator. Please fasten your seatbelts for deceleration."

  John still had his seatbelt on. He slid the magazine into its folder and looked out the window.

  Three islands slid by beneath and a few clouds appeared in the distance, just over the horizon.

  As the plane decelerated John could see that the approaching clouds hugged the surface of the ocean. They swirled and rose into the sky like a living blanket with upwelling tendrils. It seemed to reach up, trying to pull the plane down into the sea, and the plane descended, following the siren-song of the grasping beast below.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, the plane has switched over to on-board oxygen. We have plenty of fuel, but only enough oxygen to reach our destination, so let's hope for a perfect landing." The pilot had a strange sense of humour.

  Steam shrouded the windows as the reddish sun became an orange blur behind a white curtain. They spent several minutes immersed in white, then the ocean reappeared, light blue beneath an overcast sky. This was the shade of blue that John had seen in old movies. Th
e steam pulled some of the red from the sunlight, revealing the spectrum of a younger star. The plane hung suspended between a light blue floor and a white ceiling that seemed to stretch to infinity. The entire cloud deck glowed white with diffuse sunlight, while a bright spot betrayed the true location of the sun, off to the east.

  The pilot spoke again. "Ladies and gentlemen, the atmosphere around us is at least 60% steam. You may think of steam as white, but this is a result of condensation. That is what is happening above us, as the water vapour condenses into droplets in the upper atmosphere. But as we approach the ocean, the temperature rises, and steam remains a gas, as clear as the air itself. You can see for miles, but don't be fooled, it's 221 degrees outside."

  John could imagine his window blowing out, as steam poured into the cabin. Skin was scalded in a matter of seconds, and as it fell away, the muscles were cooked from the outside in. A desperate breath brought steam into the lungs, where it condensed into boiling water. A person would drown and burn at the same time. He deliberately pushed the thought from his mind. He went back to the window and told himself that the air outside was just that, air, on a cool winters day. The view supported his fantasy, a clear blue ocean stretching to the horizon.

  ELEVEN

  John saw the barge ahead, coming up fast.

  "It's a little hotter than usual today," reported the pilot, "but the seas are calm and there are no crosswinds, so I'm going to let the computer bring us in for a landing. Don't worry though; I'll have my hand on the stick at all times."

  The plane approached the south end of the barge and touched down just 100 feet along the runway. The steel hook caught the plane and slowed it to a stop, as air craft carriers had done since the dawn of technology.

  The captain spoke again, "Well that was a smooth landing. We're going to taxi up to the north entrance. Please be seated until the jet way has mated with the aircraft and the cabin door is open. If you are destined for Mars, you will go down to the main floor and proceed to the waiting area, room 679. The signs will show you the way. The barge and the elevator are already mated, so you shouldn't encounter any delays. On behalf of myself, our flight attendant, and Government Air, we hope you've had a pleasant flight."