Fable Hill

by Christopher Uremovich

Frank climbed on top of the gondola and grabbed hold of the straps that held together the gas-filled envelope. He pulled himself up to the afflicted area and searched for any obvious breaches.

  “Check the flight computer!” Roland yelled from below.

  I fucking know, Frank thought. “Rog’,” he replied.

  Alexei watched from the ground, keeping to himself as Frank struggled to get back down. His metal legs unable to feel, he had to rely on sight.

  Inside the gondola, the flight computer showed one hundred percent across all systems, good hull integrity and no leaching of hydrogen. Frank still felt a sense of unease. Everything told him not to fly again. He remembered his own fighter jet and the smallest computer error or part malfunction would ground the entire squadron as a precaution.

  “What’s the verdict, pilot?” Roland asked, his patience deteriorating rapidly. The mission had clearly taken its toll on crew morale, as well as being inside sealed spacesuits for hours on end. Frank walked out of the gondola and made eye contact with Roland, his face dirty and covered in sweat. It was approaching 1500 hours and temperatures at the equator were a balmy 16°C.

  “There’s no sign of venting gas but I recommend we don’t risk it,” Frank said.

  Roland glanced at the giant airship before him, turning his visor to full tint to conceal his frustration.

  “So what would you have us do? Walk back?” he replied over a private channel with Frank.

  “I thought we had a Sakura capsule on standby. If we can get back to Ōme, I’ll return at a later date and make repairs,” Frank advised. Roland mulled it over for a brief moment before summoning Alexei for a second opinion.

  “You got it, boss.” Alexei climbed to the top of the Goza, far outpacing Frank in speed and finesse. He carefully inspected the damage and checked the flight computer. Once complete, Alexei wandered back outside.

  “The ship is fine, we can make repairs when we get back.”

  Sensing the combative environment brewing on the surface, Mia grabbed Keiko by the arm and they retreated towards the nearest cliff drop off, mining equipment in tow.

  Chapter 25

  0541 hours, Sol 60

  Nili Fossae

  Earth Date: July 1, 2045

  Mia was first to awaken in the morning. She had explored the surrounding area well into the night, but did not collect samples. Last night was solely a recon and today she was eager to get started.

  Against protocol and unbeknownst to the sleeping crew, Mia set off alone, a single bag slung over her shoulder. Mia enjoyed Martian first light. It reminded her of home—the sky was awash in brilliant rosy hues as sunlight filtered through iron oxide dust.

  Mia decided to check an area two kilometers away where an impressive graben formation forked into two directions. The previous night she noticed other interesting rock formations that appeared in the area. Setting off for that particular spot, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of being watched. Mia turned on her helmet light and panned around, the low light still casting early morning shadows.

  I wish I could hear my surroundings, Mia thought, attributing the immense silence around her to the awkward feelings she had. “It’s not normal for a human being to have four senses,” she spoke to herself, contemplating what it would be like living deaf.

  Arriving at the fork, Mia chiseled away at various locations. She identified a few different igneous rock types, basalt being the most common, but also rocks that resembled scoria, nothing she hadn’t seen before. Mia followed the ridgeline and kept close to the wall until at last she stumbled upon a faint green specimen.

  “Bingo!” she celebrated, placing the rock inside her satchel. It was the first big olivine sample she had encountered since arriving on Mars, though she had a mountain of it in granular form.

  Just then, a sneaking feel of dread overcame Mia and she swung around to see a series of rocks falling from the top of a ridgeline in the distance. She kept her guard up and her heart raced as she couldn’t figure out why she felt so afraid.

  What caused those rocks to fall? she thought. “This is ridiculous, Mia, get yourself together,” she demanded of herself. “Mars is a dead planet,” she repeated over and over.

  Getting back to work, she analyzed what looked like another green-tinted rock when suddenly she was grabbed from behind.

  Mia shrieked in terror. Her spit-covered visor kept her from seeing clearly. A voice blared inside her helmet speaker. It was Frank.

  “Mia, it’s me. It’s me,” he said as he held onto her arm and supported her from falling backwards.

  “You son of a bitch!” Mia shouted. She gave Frank a solid punch to the chest that he didn’t bother blocking.

  “I deserved that,” Frank choked for breath.

  Mia laughed with relief and squeezed Frank tightly. “I could sense I wasn’t alone. Why were you following me?” she pried.

  “I wasn’t,” Frank replied.

  “What do you . . . oh.” She figured it out on her own.

  “Yeah, everyone’s been out looking for you.”

  “Why didn’t anyone radio me?”

  “We tried. This area must be absorbing or reflecting long-range communications or something,” Frank said.

  “How did you find me?” Mia slung her bag back over her shoulder and the two headed towards base camp.

  “Easy, I followed your huge size-nine footprints,” Frank said with a grin.

  “Wait, I forgot my e-tool,” Mia said. She jogged back to the base of the horst formaton and grabbed her shovel. Frank stopped and stood still, cocking his head slightly as if seeing something peculiar.

  “What’s wrong?” Mia asked inquisitively.

  Frank pointed towards the horst wall. The sun had risen far enough that its rays cast just right onto a slab of yellow-green rocks, causing some to glint. The slab was covered in shiny black nodules. It reminded Frank of fungus-covered rocks back on Earth, like black mold splattered on a yellow-green surface.

  Mia analyzed further, using her retractable pick to chisel some of the material away. “I think you just found an ore vein, Frank,” she said excitedly.

  “You sure? What kind?” Frank asked.

  Mia didn’t respond right away. She looked the shiny rocks up and down and peered inside the hole she had created with her LED.

  “This must be a serpentinite of some sort because this looks a lot like chromite,” Mia concluded.

  “Chromite?”

  “Chromium?” Mia quizzed to a blank stare. “Chrome, Frank. It’s chrome.”

  “Huh, that’s pretty cool. We can start our own wheel shop now,” Frank joked.

  Mia ignored the lame quip and continued to scrape away at the rock. Laparoscopically, the two astronauts discovered another ore vein further down the line, this one causing perpendicular black bands that Mia identified as more chromite.

  Back at camp, the crew made little progress for the rest of the afternoon. Tempers seemed high and everyone lacked the motivation to suit up. Fatigue had set in.

  In the confines of her tent, Mia studied new rock samples under her microscope. The drone of the life support machine was oddly satisfying; she struggled to keep her eyes open as it lulled her to sleep.

  Rrzzzng-rzzzng, went the buzzer outside the airlock. Frank’s face appeared on an exterior camera positioned above the airlock door. He entered through the airlock and, once pressure returned to the tent, opened the interior door to see Mia hunched over her workstation, fast asleep.

  Frank placed a Meal Ready to Eat packet, recently warmed, in front of Mia’s snoring face. She winced a bit and awoke with a startled snort. Mia grabbed the packet of food without hesitation and began eating it.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, eyes still partially shut. “Ya know. . .” Mia began, stopping to take another bite from her spaghetti and meatball entree. Frank had removed his entire suit and made himself at home on the floor of the tent, hands behind his head. “I analyzed some of the material we found in the cave a
t Nili Tholus.” Mia scarfed another fork of spaghetti. Sauce fell from the fork and hit her leg, but she ignored it.

  “Oh yeah?” Frank said. His heart raced a bit as he admired Mia’s hourglass figure trapped in a skin-tight thermal.

  Mia reached into her pocket and tossed a small, dark red crystal to Frank. He caught it without a problem under the light.

  “It’s beautiful, what is it?” Frank asked as he stroked the elongated prismatic crystal in his right hand.

  “The mineral rutile,” Mia replied.

  “Cool. Is it rare?”

  Mia smiled and motioned with her hands. Frank tossed the crystal back to her and she held it up to the light.

  “On Earth it is. At least now it is, we’ve mined most of it,” she said.

  “What makes it so important?” Frank asked.

  “Well, this little guy right here is sixty percent titanium and forty percent oxygen,” Mia replied.

  “Oh wow. So it’s a major source of titanium?”

  “That’s right, titanium dioxide,” Mia nodded and smiled.

  “There isn't much of this left on Earth, this mineral specifically that is. Very good for Mars's economic viability,” she said. The two astronauts shared much of the afternoon and evening together and nothing much was accomplished.

  The next sol, Roland decided they should abandon their new home near the graben. He was having difficulty reaching Renee or Amirah over radio and suggested they move to higher ground.

  As the crew packed up to leave, a dust storm developed over the span of an hour. Large wind gusts of 109 kilometers per hour were responsible. Even though the high wind speeds went largely unnoticed by the crew as they felt more like a normal breeze on Earth, the dust had become a major liability.

  Mia had set up a camera to record the camp while they packed up to leave. The storm started as a slightly yellow-tinted haze before quickly turning orange, then dark orange.

  One by one they piled back into the Goza and prepared for departure. Mia left the camera behind and a series of measurement devices to study the area while they were away. She wondered if they would ever return. There was so much to explore still.

  Frank achieved lift with the airship rather quickly as heavy winds offered an altitude boost. All internal communications remained offline while inside the storm. Frank had to rely on his altimeter as visibility neared zero. He yanked back on the steering column and ascended to maximum altitude to try and get above the dust.

  At 1,544 meters they were still enveloped in dust, visibility still at zero. Frank couldn’t believe it. “Sure isn't like thunderstorms on Earth where you can fly above them,” he complained to an already anxious crew.

  Everyone was at the edge of their seats as strange lights flashed within the orange dust cloud. “Heat lightning,” Roland commented, nudging Mia with his arm. The electrically charged particles seemed to follow the airship and surround it. Frank transitioned to maximum knots and attempted to outrun the storm.

  Frank maintained his slouching posture, staring into an animated SPS screen for guidance. Like a frail old man with cataracts driving in heavy rain, Frank squinted and leaned forward, almost touching the glass with his visor.

  Not an hour into the flight, a steady shake began in the airship’s flight pedals. Even through his hard neoprene boots, Frank could feel the vibration and knew it wasn't good. He decided to keep the information from the others and began to descend. Frank scrolled around the SPS to look for an ideal spot, but nothing seemed better than the last. They were still high above Nili Fossae, and any landing would be extremely perilous.

  Roland's eye caught a glimpse of the altimeter as it read 1,132 meters and steadily dropping. The heat lightning grew in intensity around the airship.

  “Frank, why are we descending?” Roland asked with a clearly forced calm, his voice bleeding stress.

  “I'm sorry, Roland, but I'm getting a vibration in the pedals. I need to fly lower in case I need to attempt an emergency landing,” Frank informed.

  To Frank's surprise, Roland did not attempt a protest. Instead he gave Frank encouragement and slumped back in his chair, gripping the flimsy arm rest tightly. Alexei on the other hand began a tirade, reminding Frank that the airship was fine and that he was being overly cautious.

  “This trip is long enough flying at max altitude and speed. You know how long it's going to take us to get back with your pussyfooting?!” Alexei hammered. He stood up in anger and in an instant was thrown to the ground as an explosion rocked the Goza. Shards of glass peppered the crew as the left side windows shattered from the force of the blast.

  Large amounts of dust entered through each shattered window, shrouding everyone in a swirling silicate soup. It blanketed the inside of the gondola and made seeing impossible.

  Frank had to act quick. He turned up the brightness on all pitot-static electronics and went to work grounding the Goza. Realizing no radio communications were coming through his transceiver, Frank swung his head around to check on the rest of the crew. All he saw were swarming dust particles.

  The altimeter dipped below a thousand meters as the Goza transitioned into a full-on nose dive. Frank was afraid of this outcome and pulled back on the steering column, hoping to thrust vector and level back out. It was no use; the thrusters did little to right the craft and hydrogen continued to vent from a catastrophic breach in the envelope. It collapsed the superstructure on top of itself, creating a giant drag wing.

  Frank had lost control. One by one, each electronic system began shorting out. An electrical fire broke out towards the rear of the gondola as a hand grabbed Frank by the shoulder. Mia's visor appeared out of the black smoke and dust. She transmitted to Frank words of encouragement.

  “Frank, we’re with you,” was all she said, but it was enough to give Frank the courage to continue.

  Five hundred meters was the last thing Frank saw before the altimeter froze and then cut out—they were now falling dark. Frank did the last thing he could physically do and pulled the emergency ballonet release lever. Both ballonets dropped from the semi-rigid frame and slowed the speed of the airship negligibly.

  Miraculously, the smoking, deflated Goza flew out of the dust storm and into clear, bright sunshine and butter bourbon skies. Frank could see knobby and darkened terrain below. The wall of dust had stopped abruptly outside a large crater.

  “Brace for impact,” Frank transmitted with a hoarse voice, not sure if it would even reach the others. He looked behind him again. Everyone was huddled near the rear seats, holding onto anything they could find.

  Just meters from the ground, the gondola finally detached under immense stress from the Goza's airframe. It hit the ground hard and collapsed like particle board, grinding to a halt in a chaos of bent aluminum and shrapnel. The rest of the envelope and semi-rigid skeleton crashed into the side of the impact crater.

  Silence reigned like a grave. Wreckage smoldered and pieces of airframe lay scattered across a kilometer-long stretch of knobby, rolling terrain. The impenetrable wall of dust reflected the sun, providing a bleak backdrop. Gray regolith, churned from the crash, marked the debris field. Any fires were quickly extinguished, turning to black smoke from trace oxygen in the Martian atmosphere.

  A single silhouette walked the scarred ground. It was Alexei. He was relatively unscathed, pacing back and forth, searching for survivors. Roland emerged from a sand-covered hole, clutching his shoulder in agony. Dust clung to his suit, vapor from an unknown source evaporated off his body, creating a fumy aura.

  Alexei helped Roland sit down and tapped on the glass of his own visor, motioning that his transceiver was down. Like a ghostly apparition, Mia emerged from under smoke, her suit’s custom purple borders charred. She regrouped with Roland and Alexei.

  “Is everyone alright?” she asked. “Alexei?”

  “His comm-link is damaged—arghh!” Roland replied, momentarily keeling over from sharp pangs in his right shoulder. “Shit . . . I’m fine, but I th
ink I tore a tendon in my shoulder.”

  Mia sat with Roland, putting her arm around him in a comforting manner. “We need to find Frank and Keiko,” Mia said. The three departed, scouring the wreckage for any signs of the other two crew members. Roland searched for a bit before succumbing to his injury and took a lengthy knee.

  Working in tandem, Mia counted to Alexei by bending her knees in succession. They dead-lifted a section of the gondola roof and inched it away. What they found underneath caused Mia to cover her visor in terror.

  Lying prostrate on the ground was an unresponsive Keiko. Protruding from her thigh, a splintered beam of solid aluminum. It had impaled her to the ground and found its way in between the composite joints of her suit.

  Alexei knelt before her seemingly lifeless body and checked for additional wounds. Portions of her suit were damaged. Insulating gel spilled from cracks in her suit, bubbling and frothing as it slowly transitioned to gas.

  The main wound was bad, the color of blood staining Keiko's leg. A hardened layer of gel had filled the gaps and there were no signs of a suit breach.

  “We need to find the medical bag,” Roland said.

  Mia used hand and arm signals on Alexei, ordering him to remain at Keiko's side. Alexei gave a solemn nod and Mia departed to find the luggage compartment. In the meantime, Roland attempted radio contact with Ōme. He ordered Amirah to make contact with the Yamada and send the emergency capsule to their location.

  Some distance away, Frank awoke from unconsciousness. He had been thrown from the gondola entirely and had slid twenty meters down a shallow embankment, no doubt saving him from death. In their bid to save Keiko, the others had forgotten about Frank.

  Warning lights showered Frank's HUD with red light. He opened his eyes and immediately switched off the incessant braying of internal alarms. His head throbbed with a hot pain. A large crack went down his entire visor. It took everything Frank could muster to roll on his side and, with great effort, rise to a knee.

  “Arghhh!” Frank gasped. His whole body ached with pain. He felt sick, nauseous even. Don’t puke inside your suit, is all he could think.