“These are suits that you will actually be wearing?” He asked with some surprise.
“Yes sir. Again, off-the-shelf technology. We are not asking the aerospace industry to invent anything. And if the aerospace industry has anything in their storeroom that will meet our needs that they have already amortized, that’s fine with us. ILC already had these on hand, along with others and an assortment of parts, and, with some freshening up prior to launch, will work just fine. The other suit here is a Mark III, another ILC design, which we will be using on the surface. This is one of Gabe’s suits, but we thought it would be a pretty good fit for you and, if you would like, this afternoon you’re welcome to try it on.”
Senator Landers’ eyes lit up. “Yes, by all means. That would be great.”
Jeff led the group into the theater, got everyone seated, and pointed to Chrissie at the control console, “Hit it.”
On the screen appeared the mission schedule.
Today: October 13, 2012
Pathfinder launch: December 7, 2013
1st cargo launch: December 15, 2013
Pathfinder arrival: September 30, 2014
1st cargo landing: October 19, 2014
Re-supply ship launch: December 27, 2015
2nd cargo launch: February 20, 2016
Crew launch: March 22, 2016
2nd cargo arrival: August 19, 2016
Re-supply ship arrival: September 29, 2016
Mars arrival: October 3, 2016
Mars landing: October 5, 2016
Mars liftoff: March 14, 2018
Earth splashdown: October 12, 2018
“Senator, most of the Mars proposals published to date call for a split-mission involving two launch cycles, separated by approximately 26 months, the launch opportunity window based on Earth-Mars orbits. We see no reason to depart from this conventional wisdom. As shown, our plan calls for the first launch – cargo destined for Mars – in December of next year, just under fourteen months from now. That cargo will arrive and land on the planet ten months later. Our second cargo launch will take place in February of 2016 with crew launch to follow about three weeks later. Upon arrival, the crew will transfer to the lander, and immediately descend to the surface. The crew will remain on Mars for about seventeen and a half months, departing in March 2018 and arriving home on Earth the following October.
“As you may imagine, this is an extremely ambitious schedule. We could of course wait another 26 months for the next Mars opposition – the closest approach to Earth – but there are problems with that. First, Earth’s orbit around the sun is fairly concentric. Mars’ orbit is a bit more elliptic and the roughly biannual oppositions vary considerably in distance. In 2003, the opposition, at 55.7 million kilometers, was the closest it had been in nearly 60,000 years. The 2018 opposition, when the crew is scheduled to return, will be only slightly greater than that at 57.6 million kilometers. The 2020 opposition is somewhat more distant, 62 million kilometers. After some two and a half years in space and on Mars, I believe the crew will deserve – and want – a quick trip home. The second problem is that time is money; the longer we wait, the more expensive this gets. Third, this can be done now. The entire world has been putting this off for decades and appears content to continue doing so for many more decades to come. We see no reason to procrastinate any longer. We can do it now, so let’s do it. And finally, those of us that are dedicated to this mission have effectively put our lives on hold for, at present, six and a half years. And frankly, we’re not getting any younger, particularly me. I want to do this while I still can.”
Senator Landers raised his finger and interrupted. “Jeff, did you just say, in not so many words, that you intend to go on this mission?”
“That’s correct Senator. My idea, my money, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Huh. I’m sorry, that thought never even occurred to me.”
“Sir, after all I’m putting into this, I have no intention of staying home and watching it on television.”
“Well, I suppose I can understand that. Have you selected the rest of your crew?”
“I have.” Jeff pointed around the room. “Abigail Nolan, pilot. Gabriel Frederick, flight engineer and navigator. Susan Lú, flight surgeon and planetary geologist.”
The Senator sat upright, glanced at each of them and gasped. “I’m… speechless.”
Jeff smiled. “This isn’t just the design team, Senator, this is the crew. And Christine Mallory back there will remain behind and manage ground control. This is an owner-operator mission, Senator. That gives each of us a bit more incentive to get it right. And, while I’m on the subject, please don’t read anything into the crew gender mix. I chose the very best people for the job without regard for race, creed, color… or gender. It’s simply luck of the draw.” Jeff lied, a little. He had to.
Senator Landers looked around the room again. “And all of you really want to do this?”
Jeff’s team nodded in unison.
“More than you could possibly imagine, Senator,” said Abby.
The Senator shook his head. “My word. You are brave people, I’ll give you that much.” He nodded to Jeff. “Continue.”
For the next hour and a half, they explained the mission, sometimes in broad brushstrokes, elsewhere in great detail. Each of the team members covered specific areas: Abby – launch, landing and Earth splashdown; Gabe – orbital maneuvers and the transits over and back; Susan – planetary habitat, research science, and crew issues; while Jeff discussed cargo, logistics, the landing site, planetary exploration and filled in other details as necessary. For the most part Senator Landers just sat quietly and listened.
“And, the good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, on Friday, October 12, 2018 we splashdown in the south Pacific, hopefully to be plucked out of the sea by a US Navy aircraft carrier, if the government is amenable, otherwise a chartered commercial recovery vessel.” Jeff nodded to Chrissie to bring up the room lights. “And there, in a nutshell, is the plan. Do you have any questions, Senator?”
The Senator stood and stretched. “Hundreds. But allow me to chew on this for just a bit first.” He shook his head. “This is incredible. You’ve done all of this in just six months?”
“Four, actually. It took me a couple months to get organized.”
“You know Jeff, if I were President of the United States – which I will never be – I would appoint you Director of NASA.”
Jeff grinned. “And if you did sir, I would respectfully decline.”
The Senator smiled. “And I wouldn’t blame you. I do have one question that immediately comes to mind on a subject you did not discuss. How much is this gonna cost?”
“And there’s a reason why I didn’t touch on that. To date, we have concentrated our efforts on the ‘how’, not the ‘how much’. There are a seemingly infinite number of variables involved and it’s really hard to say at this point. Still, cost is certainly an issue and we have priced everything we can that actually has a price tag attached, and given the rest our best guess. In answer to your question, we are currently estimating somewhere between two and three billion.”
“What?” the Senator asked with noticeable surprise. “You’re joking?”
“No sir, I am not.”
“Jeff, NASA spent over ten billion dollars on the Constellation Program and all it accomplished was a single Ares I test launch. And the most recent figures I’ve seen call for another hundred billion just to achieve a return to the moon eight to ten years from now.”
“Yes sir, I know. But we are not NASA, and we’re not the government. We do things a bit differently.”
The Senator exhaled loudly. “Okay, but you’ll have to explain that to me.”
“Yes sir. I will.” Jeff paused for a moment. “Sir, you must be hungry. We have lunch prepared, perhaps we should adjourn to the dining room and pick this up again later.”
“Yes indeed, that sounds good. This is a lot to digest.” He glanced arou
nd the room. “And, thank you, all of you. I will readily admit that I had my reservations. I honestly did not believe there was any way it could be done. But it seems you found the answer. Most impressive.”
“Thank you Senator. Let’s eat.”
After lunch they returned to the projects room where Susan held up a garment on a hanger that looked rather like a speed skater’s spandex suit with tiny ribs. “Senator, first we will need you to change in to this. This is the cooling and ventilation undergarment. It is made of breathable spandex and contains over 300 feet of micro-tubing that will carry chilled water to keep you comfortably cool. Otherwise, the suit can get unbearably hot, even in the void of space.”
“Alright. Okay, no photos. The last thing we need is a United States Senator in spandex on the cover of the National Inquirer.”
Susan grinned. “No photos, sir. We promise. Normally we would wear a disposable diaper underneath as the suit’s life support system is good for up to seven hours and when nature calls… well, that’s how we deal with it. But you won’t be in it for that long, so we can skip that part. Just leave your shorts on.” She showed him to the lab. “You can change in here, sir. The zipper goes in front.”
A few minutes later the Senator reappeared. “How’s this?”
The attending crowd applauded.
Susan smiled. “Looks good on you sir.”
The Senator nodded to the applause and turned to Susan. “I’d wager it looks a lot better on you.”
“No sir, not really. Alright, now we have a stepstool here for you that will make getting into the suit a bit easier. This is a rear-entry suit and can be a little awkward to get into if you are not used to them. The only advantage of a rear-entry is that it can be adapted to a rear-entry port so that one can back up to the port, lock the rear-entry portal into place and exit the suit directly into the pressurized habitat. This eliminates airlocks and dramatically reduces – in an alien planetary environment – the amount of dust brought in that has collected on the suit. You may recall that the Apollo lunar missions had quite a problem with moon dust.”
“Yes, I remember. They said it smelled like gunpowder, or something like that.”
“That is correct sir. That may have been from salt perchlorates in the regolith, which Mars is also known to contain. We have not decided yet whether or not we want to use rear-entry ports. Yes, they are convenient and certainly cleaner, but they are also dramatically more expensive, complex and, shall we say, finicky. We intend to have a dirty side and clean side to the habitat regardless, so it’s probably a small matter. Nevertheless, we favor the Mark III suit for planetary usage because of its high operating pressure. At 0.56 atmospheres, the suit doesn’t require the several hours of pure oxygen prebreathe that’s necessary with, say, the EMU as used on the shuttle and ISS – a significant advantage if we’re going to regularly be going outside.”
“Understood. How much does this suit weigh?”
“With the Portable Life Support System – or, PLSS – attached, around 74 kilos.”
“What’s that in pounds?”
“About 163 pounds. Sorry Senator, we tend to use metric and Avoirdupois measurements around here in a rather haphazard manner.”
“That’s quite alright, doctor. At least you know the difference.”
She smiled. “The good news is, at least for us, the suit only weighs around 62 pounds on Mars. So for someone like Jeff who weighs about 175 pounds, on Mars, even wearing the Mark III suit, he’ll still weigh 25% less than he does here on Earth – without the suit. That will make physical work on the planet considerably easier.”
“And Senator,” Jeff grinned, “you just know who’s gonna have to mow the lawn up there.”
The Senator laughed. “I have to say, you folks have a delightfully cavalier attitude about this.”
Susan tilted her head and looked at him. “Sir, in case you don’t know, we’re looking forward to going. This is going to be the adventure of… well, I was going to say, a lifetime, but it’s more like, all time. We can’t wait. This is going to be fun.”
“Doctor, you know, I believe you. Alright, how do I get into this contraption?”
“Sir, just step up here, grab on to the bar, and swing into the back of the suit. Once your feet are in the boots, bend forward and duck in, then stick your hands and arms into the sleeves and gloves.”
“I’m guessing that’s not as easy as it sounds.”
“You’ll be fine, sir. It’s not that hard.”
The Senator followed Susan’s instructions and a moment later was standing upright in the space suit. “Well, that wasn’t so bad.”
“Alright sir, now I’m going to connect the undergarment to the PLSS and close up the back.” She attached the suit cooling tubes, closed the back of the suit and attached the PLSS. “The PLSS weighs 33 pounds, so you’ll feel some weight on your back here.”
“Umph”
Susan grinned. “How you doing there, Senator?”
“Uh, it’s heavy. But I’m fine.”
“Okay. Now we’ll put your ‘Snoopy cap’ on, that gives you communications and some additional light, and connect it to the suit. Now sir, give me you hand and reach right here on the chest control panel and push this button. There, that powers up the suit. All that’s left now is to put your helmet on.”
“Wow, I feel the, uh, undergarment cooling down right away.”
Susan nodded. “It’s pretty quick. There’s a thermostat right here on the control panel that allows you to adjust the temperature. I’d recommend leaving it alone. It may feel a bit cool now, but the suit will warm up very quickly.” Susan picked up the helmet off the table and held it in front of him. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’m going to get.”
“Alright sir. Now once I put the helmet on, the suit will control your atmospheric environment. In space or on Mars, the suit would normally bleed off some pressure as the air lock is decompressed to adjust down to an operating pressure of 8.3 psi from the cabin pressure of one atmosphere, or 14.7 psi. Sir, that’s like taking off in an unpressurized aircraft at sea level and climbing rather quickly to 15,000 feet. Your ears pop but otherwise there are no ill effects as the high oxygen concentration more than compensates for the lower atmospheric pressure – rather like mountain climbers using bottled oxygen. However, here on Earth, the internal pressure will remain at right about one atmosphere, otherwise the suit would kind of collapse around you. Also, you won’t be in the suit long enough to notice any effects of the high oxygen concentration. Alright?”
Senator Landers nodded. “Let’s do it.”
“Okay sir, here goes. Oh, I’m wearing a Bluetooth communications piece that is connected wirelessly to the suit so we can communicate.”
He nodded, and Susan placed the helmet over his head and locked it into position.
“Alright sir, can you hear me?”
“Yes, just fine.”
“Okay, let’s give the suit a minute to adjust, and see how you do.”
The Senator grinned from inside the Mark III and gave them a ‘thumbs up’.
Susan nodded. “Alright sir, you’re on the PLSS, and free to maneuver. The room is yours.”
The Senator began to slowly walk around the room, reaching out and touching things, bending over and testing his mobility. “It’s funny, except for the weight, I don’t really feel any different. It’s surprisingly easy.”
“Sir, people have literally done cartwheels in a Mark III suit. And in lunar or Martian gravity it would be even easier.”
The Senator stood and turned back to look at Susan. “NASA rejected these, didn’t they?”
“Yes sir. They issued a new design requirement for an entirely soft suit; hence, the M-suit. Apparently they had leftover budgetary funds. The Mark III is a good suit Senator, certainly good enough for us. And it’s already been built.”
“So, how far can I go in this?”
“You’ve got about seven hours of oxygen, plus a 15-
minute reserve.” Susan pointed south and smiled. “The beach is that way.”
Gabe walked over to Susan and spoke to her earpiece. “Senator, I’m going to need that suit on Mars, I’d just as soon you didn’t go swimming in it.” She stood in front of him, looked through the helmet visor, smiled and winked.
He raised his hand to the visor and gave Gabe a salute, then walked back to the stand and backed up to it. “Okay, doctor, great fun but this thing is heavy.”
“Alright sir, won’t take but a second to get you out. Hold it right there… good. Okay, let me switch the suit off and remove your helmet.”
Twenty minutes later the Senator was back in street clothes and shaking everyone’s hands. “That was great. I’ve been on the Science and Space Subcommittee for sixteen years and I’ve heard about space suits in countless hours of testimony. Never thought I’d actually wear one. Thank you all very much.”
“Our pleasure, sir. Any time.” Jeff said.
“Those are rather expensive, aren’t they?”
“Oh, about ten million apiece. Give or take.”
“Amazing.”
“Well, there’s a lot that goes into them, sir. And, considering their purpose, it’s probably one place you wouldn’t want to scrimp too much.”
“Good point.”
“Sir, if you’d care to accompany us out to the carport, we have one other piece of hardware to show you.”
“Certainly. I have to admit that one of the aspects of the space program that I find most interesting – even entertaining – is all the neat toys.”
Jeff smiled and nodded. “Then you’ll probably like this one.”
As they walked through the foyer and down the hall beside the kitchen, the Senator said, “I’m also anxious to get a tour of this house. You must get plenty of exercise just walking around here.”
Jeff laughed. “Yes sir. Getting from my office in the 2nd floor west wing to Chrissie’s office in the lower level east wing requires advanced travel arrangements.”
Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) Page 25