Red Hope

by J J (John) Dreese

  “Hello! Yes, I need to speak with Tatyana. Is she available? Oh rats, then can I leave her a message? Yes. Okay. This is her old friend Keller Murch from America. Could you please tell her that I have to cancel our deal and the shipment? No hard feelings. I’ll return the money in a few weeks when it’s convenient for me. Alright, thank you.”

  Unbeknownst to his employees at Murch Motors, Keller was going to coast on the ill-gotten money from the Russians until the federal contracts started rolling in from NASA; if they ever did. It was a simple plan in theory, but he’d learn more when Chris Tankovitch visited him at his home on the ocean.

  Chapter 5

  Seventeen astronauts stood in the broiling desert sunshine wearing prototype Mars space suits. They were waiting for a gunshot. Each made eye contact with the others nearby as an unspoken acknowledgement that this was a strange interview process. Rumor had it they would run straight through the desert for one mile and at the end of that race the real interview would begin.

  In the days leading up to the president’s big press conference, NASA had been secretly contacting all of the astronauts who had space shuttle experience and letting them know about the discovery. They found thirty-two of them, but ten were either retired or in the process of retiring.

  Due to prior commitments many from the remaining talent pool couldn’t make this quickly assembled interview process. Right now, only seventeen of them were standing in the late morning desert heat waiting for the sound of that gunshot.

  For the last twenty four hours they had been arriving at the hotels just outside of Monument Valley to get ready for this day-long process. Earlier this morning all of them had gone through an in-depth physical along with a detailed background questionnaire. This site was near the rocky outcroppings made famous by many Old West cowboy movies. NASA chose it for its similarity to the Mars terrain.

  The astronauts could see Chris Tankovitch talking with a group of NASA personnel. Somebody must’ve told a joke because they all laughed just before Chris picked up his megaphone and walked out in front of the interviewees.

  “Thank you all for coming here today. As you know, we are trying to find a crew for the first human mission to Mars. Each of you has a chance to make it onto that rocket. We’ll be choosing two of you to make that voyage. Just getting here today,” he paused and looked up and down the line of candidates.

  He continued, “Just getting here today to this interview means that you are the best qualified individuals that our country has to offer. You should be proud.”

  Chris looked up at the Sun and wiped the sweat from his brow, lifting some papers to shield his eyes.

  “When I fire off the starter pistol, I want you to run straight East through the desert as fast as you can for about a mile. We’ve laid out some markers for you to follow. At the end you will find a mockup of some Mars housing units. We didn’t have a lot of time. They’re just trailers. I apologize for the rudimentary nature of this test. So, just find the trailer with your name written on the door and go inside. Alright, okay. Good luck.”

  The astronauts looked around one more time at their fellow interviewees standing next to them. Everybody was drenched in sweat in their suits. This was very unrealistic because the real temperature on Mars would be one hundred degrees below zero.

  One interviewee named Adam had correctly guessed they would be put through some pointless test like this; he’d stuffed his suit with ice-filled Ziplock bags including inside his helmet. He was quite comfortable. Another named Molly had coated her arms and legs with the ice gel bandages that athletes use. These two astronauts were ready.

  Chris Tankovitch fumbled around in his jacket pockets and produced a rather bedraggled starter pistol. He’d borrowed it from the local high school. He walked over to the side to avoid getting trampled. Chris received a nod from one of the other NASA personnel and raised the pistol to the sky.

  Kapow!

  Seventeen engineers and scientists took off running through the desert, each footstep sending up a rooster-tail of dirt. Chris laughed out loud and said to his fellow coworkers, “Have you ever seen so many nerds getting so much exercise?”

  Contrary to Chris’s comment, many of the astronauts had kept in good shape since the shuttle program ended. However, they still stumbled and flopped through the desert at the pace of drunken sailors. The uneven ground and limited helmet visibility was wreaking havoc on their journey.

  Within the first ten seconds, three of them tripped over cacti and another landed spread eagle into a patch of horse crippler cactus balls, screaming out in pain. The ice-water infused astronaut named Adam saw the poor competitor struggling to climb out of the prickly cactus spines and considered helping him. However, he realized that getting to the test trailer quickly may be part of the test. Adam frowned as he jumped over the struggling competitor and kept running.

  At the end of the mile the ground rose up quickly to a ridge. As they came barreling over the top, most tumbled end over end down the hill. When all was said and done, loud groans and shrieks were heard as they stood up one by one, some grabbing their backs and limping. Three standby ambulances were waiting nearby.

  Just beyond the bottom of the ridge were four white industrial trailers with metal steps leading up to their doors. The vehicles were still attached to the large pickup trucks that had pulled them to this remote patch of desert flatland.

  The oldest looking trailer was located at the end of the group. The door squeaked open. Molly stuck her head in and then backed out to re-read the names list to make sure she had it right.

  “Come on in,” invited a friendly voice from inside. She walked in and saw a sagging banquet table which had bent under the weight of many heavy boxes and many years. Several chairs were arranged around the table; two were occupied by NASA personnel. She removed her helmet and set it on the table before flopping into the seat.

  “Ahhhh,” she said as she closed her eyes and soaked in the frigid air conditioning.

  Adam arrived just a few seconds later. He walked inside and saw the table and the three occupants just sitting there quietly. Adam removed his helmet and a water bag fell out of it and splashed open on the floor. He jokingly remarked, “Excuse me, that’s never happened before.”

  Water bottles were handed out and they both chugged.

  Molly looked into her bottle and said, “I don’t know if cold water ever tasted this good.”

  Each trailer had two NASA personnel in it. One man ran a video camera; he rarely spoke. The other one held a clipboard and was clearly in charge. Adam saw the clipboard guy’s name tag and introduced himself.

  “Hi Bill, my name’s Adam and it’s nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you too mister…,” said Bill as he looked down at his clipboard to learn which last name belonged to an ‘Adam.’

  Adam beat him to it.

  “Alston. Adam’s my first name.”

  “Yes, nice to meet you Adam. You can just call me the Clipboard Man. It looks like you and Molly are the only people to make it to this trailer.”

  The cameraman pried open the window blinds and looked out to see if any others were coming.

  “I doubt anybody else made it. I guess that sprint was harder than we expected. Oh well.”

  Clipboard Man flipped through his paperwork and pulled out a sheet with questions written on it.

  “Today you two are part of a group interview. We didn’t have time to build a real simulator, so we’re going to just simulate a situation instead. An emergency meeting in the Mars living quarters. You got it?”

  Molly and Adam looked at each other and nodded.

  “So, oh yes, I forgot one thing. Due to regulations, I have to ask each of you a standard competence interview question first. I apologize, this is just bureaucratic policy. You first Adam. Can you tell me why manhole covers are round?”

  Adam looked confused. “What?”

  “It’s a standard question. Please answer.”

  Ad
am looked around the room and then blurted out, “I suppose it’s so the manhole cover won’t fall into its own hole?”

  The Clipboard Man smiled.

  “That’s a good answer Adam. Now for Molly.”

  She smiled and replied, “Okay, fire away.”

  “You have eight basketballs. Seven of them weigh the same. One is heavier. You have an old-fashioned, teeter-totter balance scale that you can only use twice. How do you find the one ball that’s heavier than the rest?”

  Molly smiled uncomfortably.

  “Not that I’m complaining, but, you know, that’s a lot harder than Mr. Alston’s question.”

  Clipboard Man laughed and responded, “Yes, but you’re a lot smarter too. You have a PhD in flight sciences and you’re a medical doctor. Mr. Alston here only has degrees in geology and engineering.”

  Molly blushed and then set her mind to thinking. She stared at the table while the neurons in her brain built new paths to answer the question.

  “Okay, I’ve got it. Put three balls on each side of the balance. If one side of the balance drops, then the heavy ball is among that group of three. Now take two of those three balls and put them each on a scale by themselves. If they balance, then the heavy ball is the one that I didn’t weigh. If one side of the balance drops, then that’s the heavy ball.”

  Clipboard Man raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  He asked, “What if your original weighing with three balls on each side shows them all to be in balance?”

  “Well, then the heavy ball is among the two that I didn’t weigh originally. It’s a simple matter of putting one on each side of the balance and seeing which side of the balance drops.”

  Clipboard Man raised his head and said, “Call me impressed. Not even Director Tankovitch got that one right.”

  Clipboard Man leaned down and pulled another sheet of paper out of his briefcase and put it on his clipboard. Molly glanced out the window to see the beautiful rusty red landscape around the trailers. The dust from the running of the astronauts was still floating by.

  “Okay, now that those questions are out of the way, we can move onto the situational question test.”

  Clipboard Man drank some water and then continued.

  “Imagine that you’re on Mars and you’re ready to return home to Earth. However, you’ve just noticed that your oxygen condenser has broken and you will run out of breathable air in two days, long before you get back to Earth. Find a solution.”

  Adam and Molly stared at each other wondering who would start talking first.

  The cameraman adjusted his video camera on the tripod and then added, “Okay, so you’re a team about to run out of oxygen and you need to discuss what you’re going to do. It’s okay, go ahead.”

  Adam was the first to break the uncomfortable silence.

  “So, Molly, it looks like we’re up a 50 million mile creek without air.”

  The two NASA personnel chuckled.

  “But seriously, we only have oxygen for two days, right? Do we have any auxiliary oxygen tanks left over from the excursions on the planet?”

  Molly quickly responded, “We do. We have four tanks that are full. However, those will only add another day or so.”

  Adam asked, “What if we tap into the oxygen fuel tanks for the rockets?”

  The NASA personnel were feverishly taking notes like they were observing wild animals.

  Molly replied, “If we used the oxygen from the fuel tanks, then we wouldn’t have enough rocket thrust to get back to Earth.”

  “Well, what if we got rid of every non-essential item to lighten the load. Would that decrease how much fuel and oxygen we have to use during our escape phase?”

  Molly smiled, realizing what Adam was getting at.

  “Yes, that would reduce our runtime on the rockets and would leave us extra oxygen. However, who knows if that would be enough to get us to Earth?”

  Adam concluded, “Then perhaps we could lighten the load and use the rockets sparingly once we left Mars orbit and tap what was left in the tanks to use, you know, for us to breathe. It might not be enough to last us the entire trip, but at least we’d last longer.”

  Molly added, “We could also dial back our oxygen use to below the standard levels. We could keep it at just above when hypoxia effects kick in. It would be like living halfway up Mt. Everest. Slightly light headed, but still conscious.”

  Clipboard Man nodded his head.

  “Yes, yes, I like what you two did there. That was clever.”

  Clipboard Man looked back at the cameraman to make sure he was still recording. The cameraman gave him a thumbs-up. Clipboard Man was happy with their answers and said, “Okay, let’s move on to the next step here.”

  He turned to look at Adam.

  “Could you please step outside for a minute? We have a few things to discuss with Molly here. We’ll invite you back in and you two can switch places.”

  Adam stood up, grabbed his water bottle, and walked out the door. It slammed shut behind him. He sat on the bottom step and guzzled more water as the mid-day sunshine roasted his salt and pepper colored hair.

  “Now, Molly, you were scheduled to be on the very last space shuttle launch, right?”

  “That’s right. I trained for over a year.”

  “And why weren’t you on it?”

  “Um, I came down with the flu right before the launch, so I was replaced. We had a backup understudy program for that kind of unexpected event. Somebody was always in the wings waiting.”

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  “How do I feel about missing out on a shuttle mission? Well, I was tragically disappointed.”

  “Okay, if you got sick again, would you still notify NASA personnel?”

  She hesitated and didn’t look him in the eye.

  “Yes, of course. I could never forgive myself for knowingly endangering the mission. Especially a Mars mission.”

  Clipboard Man took some notes, then put his pencil behind his ear. The cameraman opened the door and called for Adam. He came back in and fell into his chair. Molly stood up, looking tired, and wandered outside.

  Adam laughingly said, “Okay Clipboard Man. Ask away.”

  “I see that you were on a space shuttle mission once back in 2008. Your wife Connie was in a car accident while you were up in orbit. Tell me how you handled that stress.”

  Adam stared at him in wonderment.

  “How do you know about the accident?”

  Clipboard Man saw his surprised look. He leaned toward Adam and replied, “I read about it in your book. It was a very interesting story.”

  “Ah yes, well you must’ve been the only person who bought that book. You know it just reached three millionth place on Amazon’s best seller list? But, yes, as you say, that’s true. My wife Connie was in a bad car accident during my shuttle mission; actually while I was performing an eight-hour spacewalk.”

  Adam paused to collect his thoughts.

  “My crew decided not to tell me about it until I got back inside the shuttle. It was serious and she still has to walk with leg braces and sometimes with balancing crutches; kind of like short crutches that only come up to the elbow. No running or any quick movements.”

  “Well, Adam, do you think you could be on a mission lasting many months and deal with that level of stress again?”

  “I’ll ask her to avoid being hit by a drunk driver… again.”

  Everybody laughed except Adam.

  “I’d be fine. Connie is a very strong woman. She fights that impairment every day. She still manages to take care of our kids while I go on empty book tours and give speeches to half-empty audiences at conferences. Life has been a little stressful since the space shuttle was cancelled.”

  Clipboard Man interrupted, “We’re getting that same message from a lot of your coworkers.”

  The Cameraman pushed the button to stop recording while Clipboard Man was writing down more notes. He paused long enough to look
up at Adam.

  “Okay, I think that’s enough. You and Molly did well. There’s a bus at the other end of this line of trailers. It’ll take you back to your hotel. You can leave now. Remember, don’t tell anybody about today. We’ll be in touch.”

  “Got it,” replied Adam.

  He picked up his helmet and water bottle and walked out through the door. It slammed shut under the heavy spring. He saw Molly standing down in the trailer’s shadow drinking her water.

  As he descended the staircase, Adam remarked, “They said we both did well and we can get on the bus to go home.”

  “Do you think we’ll be the chosen ones?” she questioned.

  “You? Maybe. Me? Not a chance.”

  The two astronauts walked through the dusty red soil to the bus. Their interview was over and it was time to go home.

  Chapter 6

  The director of NASA sat in a black limo at the entrance gate to Sunset Beach State Park. He’d flown into Silicon Valley an hour earlier and drove down to meet Keller Murch at the entrepreneur’s ocean-side house. Chris was excited to discuss the MM10 rocket-powered space ship idea. He followed Keller’s directions and ended up at this park entry booth located at the top of a cliff overlooking a beach and the Pacific Ocean. Anybody wanting access to the beach had to go through the booth and pay a fee. The only exception was for people who lived in the beach houses spread out along the coastline here.

  The park attendant leaned out of her Dutch door to collect the entrance fee. Chris rolled down the window and told the park worker, “Four nine four Las Viento Drive.”

  Only six words. The park worker smiled and said, “Good morning sir, have a nice day.” That was it. No ID required. No fee collected. Chris had said the secret code just like Keller told him. The park worker opened the gate and the limo disappeared down a steep winding road toward the ocean.

  When he reached the bottom of the hill, the limo was just below a towering cliff with houses perched at the very top. They looked like little baby birds about to fall. As Chris was driven down the road, to his right was a beautiful white sand beach leading to the Monterey Bay inlet of the Pacific Ocean.