Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1)
Page 46
“How significantly?”
“I don’t know, the numbers vary and the study methodologies are disputed but, probably at least two to three times more likely. But, as I mentioned previously, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. In extreme cases, maternal immune intolerance can also result in infertility and miscarriage.”
“Okay. Well, what would constitute a sufficient period of sexual cohabitation?”
“Generally speaking, the longer the better. According to one study, regular and frequent sexual relations without barrier method contraception for at least four months. A year would be better.”
Jeff rolled his eyes and sighed. “You’re kidding?”
She smiled and shook her head. “No. But, there are other ways.”
“What?”
“Well, one would be a blood transfusion. But that would only work with Abby; the two of you are A positive. However, Gabe is O positive and I am B positive. So you can’t give blood to us.”
“Alright. What else?”
Susan grinned. “You’re going to love this.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Let’s see… how shall I put this?” She paused for a moment, biting her lip. “Um, at least two studies have shown a surprisingly strong correlation between a noticeably reduced incidence of pre-eclampsia and, uh… gastrointestinal absorption of paternal immune modulating factors.”
He stared at her for a moment, mentally chewing on that phrase. “Uh, did you just say what I think you said?”
She chuckled. “That would depend upon what you think I said.”
He cleared his throat. “Ahem, you’re talking about oral sex.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Including seminal fluid ingestion. And, by the way, it also has the advantage of being more effective and faster acting which, if you think about it, makes perfect sense, as acquired oral tolerance is arguably the most effective means of suppressing immune reactivity to antigens, which is precisely what we are talking about.”
Jeff cocked his jaw and sat staring at her for a moment, then stood, walked to the bar, and poured a glass of Scotch.
“Isn’t it a bit early for that?”
“Not today,” and he drained the glass, then returned to his desk. “Good grief. The things they don’t teach you in high school biology.”
Susan laughed. “Um, given a classroom-full of raging hormones, leaving this item off the lesson plan may have certain merit.”
“Uh, yeah. Seminal fluid ingestion?”
Susan shrugged. “I’m just relating what I have read.”
Jeff chuckled. “Forgive the pun, but that’s a mouthful. Can’t you doctors just say… swallow?”
She grinned and blushed. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know.”
He looked at her with surprise. “Really?”
She slowly shook her head.
“You’re not a virgin, are you?”
“No. But neither do I have anything remotely approaching Abby’s experience.”
“Right. Um, what about Gabe?”
“You’ll have to ask her yourself.”
“What, and end with my head stuck in a wall? No thank you.”
Susan smiled.
“Sue, I’m almost afraid to ask, but what are you suggesting?”
“Jeff, I’m not suggesting anything, I’m simply providing you with the facts as I understand them. Which, I might add, is what you hired me for.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Okay, well, I’m, uh, confident that Abby would not have a problem with this.”
Susan grinned.
“What about you?”
She shrugged.
“Okay. But explaining this to Gabe?” He cringed. “That could result in severe bodily injury or death. Mine.”
Susan chuckled. “That is possible.”
Jeff shook his head. “Well, for the time being let’s hold off on that option.” He grinned. “I have to admit, it does sound rather entertaining, but it could really complicate matters.”
“I agree.”
“Alright, Sue, what’s the bottom line on this? If we do nothing and just stick to the plan, what’s the risk?”
“I don’t know, probably minimal. If I had to guess, not more than one in ten.”
“Well, hell, the odds against us just making it back alive are probably greater than that.”
Susan frowned. “Thank you for that pleasant thought.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“In any case, when the time comes, I would advise that, in addition to the, um, routine procedure, you not ignore the possible benefit oral sex may have to her immune system. Who knows? Even ten or twelve days may help. Further, if she fails to conceive on the first try, she may be better prepared for the next.”
“Yeah. Right. Um, what about pre-eclampsia itself? What if it did happen? Could you deal with it?”
“Probably. There are a lot of variables. It depends on what point in the pregnancy it occurs, the severity, the patient’s response to treatment, and the degree, if any, of coincident fetal distress. But in the vast majority of cases, treatment is straightforward, and the prognosis is good. Frankly, most deaths attributable to it – about 80% – occur postpartum.”
“They can get it even after the birth?”
“Yes, up to six weeks. And the reason for the high postpartum mortality rate is that mother and child have gone home, all the excitement is over, they settle into a routine, and the mother ignores or fails to recognize the symptoms. And the next thing you know, she’s having eclamptic seizures, stops breathing, becomes cyanotic, goes into a coma, and dies.”
“Ugh.”
“But in our circumstance that is not likely to happen. I won’t allow it. I’ll be right there and watching over both mother and infant like a hawk.”
He nodded. “Well, there is something to be said for that.”
“Yes, and that’s the upside of all this. She’s going to have her own personal physician tending to her day and night, throughout the pregnancy and afterwards. It’s hard to get that kind of care even on this planet.”
“Good point.”
“Jeff, I’m probably overstating the significance of this, but our situation will be a bit unusual, and I feel matters such as this need to at least be discussed, even if we choose to do nothing about it.”
“You’ll get no argument from me on that point. Anything else?”
“No.” She got up to leave.
“Okay. Well, I’ll say this much, at least you’ve given me something to think about as I lay awake in bed at night.”
Susan grinned. “Enjoy.”
“Yeah.”
At the door she paused and turned back to Jeff. “And by the way, the next time your back is bothering you, call me. Abby is not the only one with a therapeutic solution.”
Jeff chuckled. “Uh, yeah. I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”
Tuesday, September 30, 2014 (T minus 539 days)
Jeff glanced up at the big screen. The view of Mars was fantastic, like nothing he’d seen before.
Gabe grabbed his hand. “That’s your image. Not NASA’s or JPL’s, or the European’s or Russian’s.” She shook with excitement. “That’s yours! You did it.”
Jeff shook his head. “No. That’s ours. We did it.”
Heidi barked, “How we doing FIDO? Last chance, mess this up and I’m not gonna be happy.”
FDO, “Looking good FLIGHT. Right down the pipe. Auto-sequence engaged and awaiting orbital insertion burn ignition in thirteen minutes, twenty seconds.”
“Roger. MOI in thirteen plus twenty.”
PAO, “Grey Aerospace’ Pathfinder, the first entirely private sector Mars explorer, is now thirteen minutes away from commencing its 40-minute orbital insertion burn. Since World War II, Airborne Pathfinders have led the way for air assault forces, establishing navigational aids at drop zones. Grey Aerospace’ Pathfinder has the same mission, lighting the way for the first manned mission to Mars, scheduled to land just two years from n
ow.”
Jeff leaned toward Gabe. “Heidi and Chrissie both look a lot happier now that they’ve swapped chairs.”
“Yeah, but,” she groaned, “I could have done without the reminder that in two years we will be there.”
“Ah, come on, you’re looking forward to it.”
“No, really I’m not.”
He chuckled. “Well, look at it this way, in four years we’ll be back and you’ll be famous.”
She shook her head. “Jeff, I’ve been on the Tonight Show, the cover of Time Magazine, dined with the President at the White House, and testified before the United States Senate. I’m already famous. You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Okay, I’ll think of something.”
“Good luck.”
PAO, “Mars is presently 142.3 million miles from Earth and one-way communications with Pathfinder take just under thirteen minutes. As such, no further commands can be sent to the orbiter prior to initiation of the insertion burn. Pathfinder is now on its own. In approximately 26 minutes we will learn whether or not the orbiter’s main engine is burning to slow it for orbital capture.”
Abby sneered, “Isn’t she the cheery one. Remind me to smack her.”
Heidi turned around, glared at Chrissie, and held up her middle finger.
Chrissie grinned.
Jeff frowned. “You think perhaps Heidi has been down at Michoud too long?”
Gabe shook her head. “She’s an engineer, what do you expect?”
“Right, and a physicist would never do that.”
She grinned. “Of course not.”
PAO, “Upon MOI completion, Pathfinder will be in a 1,500 by 32,600 kilometer synchronous orbit, making one complete orbit every 24 hours, 39.6 minutes. During the first orbit, the flight team here at Grey Aerospace Mission Control will evaluate the orbit and, if it falls within mission parameters, the lander will detach approximately 21.5 hours following MOI and three hours and ten minutes after that, touch down in the Margaritifer Basin.”
26 minutes later a cheer went up around the room as Pathfinder’s telemetry updated indicating main engine ignition.
Jeff shook his fist. “Yes!”
Gabe hugged him, grinning.
Heidi turned around, wearing a broad smile, and gave Jeff a thumb up.
He grinned, nodded, and saluted her.
PAO, “Pathfinder has just reported that its RS-2101C main engine is burning at full thrust. Pathfinder’s main engine, which sits atop the orbiter’s bus, is more than 40-years-old, a spare remaining from the original Viking program that was rebuilt specifically for this mission by Pratt & Whitney Rocketdyne.”
Jeff turned to Abby. “When we’re done here, tell Chrissie to send PWR a case of champagne.”
She chuckled. “Good idea.”
Forty minutes later, PROP hollered, “Shutdown!”
Heidi yelled, “GUIDANCE?”
GUIDANCE, “Yeah, FLIGHT, confirm engine shutdown. Hang on a second. Okay, um periapsis based on radar ranging is 1,503 kilometers.”
Jeff leaped out of his seat, clapping his hands.
Gabe jumped up and wrapped her arms around him. “We’re there!”
He gave her a broad grin and nodded. “Yeah, we’re there.” He kissed her. “Good job.”
Gabe blushed. “Thanks.”
GUIDANCE, “FLIGHT, we’ll have our first star fix in about twenty minutes, but we’ll want to wait until apoapsis for full confirmation on orbital parameters.”
FLIGHT, “Rog. Good job.”
PAO, “Pathfinder is now in orbit around Mars. The preliminary orbital parameters appear to be nearly perfect and, pending final confirmation, Pathfinder’s lander should set down in the Margaritifer Basin in a little over twenty-four hours.”
Wednesday, October 1, 2014 (T minus 538 days)
Gabe yawned and stretched. “I do wish we could stop doing this in the wee hours of the morning. Two days in a row… I’m tired.”
Jeff nodded. “Yeah, well, you’ve got two and a half weeks to catch up on your beauty sleep before the next round. Once this thing’s on the ground, we can go to bed.”
Her head snapped toward him and her eyebrows went up.
He felt her stare, but continued looking at Pathfinder’s telemetry data. “Um, okay, that didn’t come out quite right.”
“You think?”
GUIDANCE, “EDL in three minutes.”
Heidi stood beside the FLIGHT console. “Rog.” She turned around, looked at Jeff and crossed her fingers.
He smiled and nodded.
PAO, “Pathfinder will commence EDL – Entry, Decent and Landing – in three minutes. It is thirteen minutes from entry interface, and nineteen minutes from touchdown. The lander’s velocity is presently 3,924 meters per second. Final position and velocity data have been uploaded and Pathfinder’s onboard inertial navigation computer is now in charge.”
Jeff shook his head. “And if it screws up, when we get there I’m gonna take a hammer to it.”
Gabe laughed. “If it screws up, there won’t be enough left to take a hammer to.”
GUIDANCE, “EDL.”
FLIGHT, “Copy. EDL.”
Jeff took Gabe’s and Abby’s hands and squeezed. “Here we go.”
PAO, “EDL. In three minutes Pathfinder will make a final turn onto its approach vector to the Margaritifer Basin landing site. The target site is at 13.53º south latitude and 21.58º west longitude. The landing ellipse for the original Viking missions was 280 by 100 kilometers. Viking I missed its target site by 47 kilometers, while Viking II missed by 13.5 kilometers. Using updated technology, much of which was derived from the MSL, we are hopeful that Pathfinder will land within ten kilometers of the target site.”
“Boss,” said Abby, “what do we do if it overshoots and lands in one of the big craters northeast of the site?”
Jeff shrugged. “I dunno. Add it to the list of useless space junk and hope we do better next time.”
GUIDANCE, “Turning to entry attitude. Flight path angle looks good. Seven minutes to entry interface.”
FLIGHT, “Rog. EI in seven.”
Julio, still sitting MOD, looked over his shoulder at Jeff. “Email to you from NASA Administrator, Dr. Fairfax, ‘Good luck.’”
Jeff smiled. “Reply, ‘Thanks. Now I know how you felt when MSL was on final.’”
Julio grinned and nodded.
“Nice to know they’re watching,” said Gabe.
“Yeah, I imagine most folks at NASA and JPL are pretty excited too. And understandably curious.”
For the next seven minutes, Mission Control was deathly quiet, everyone in the room mesmerized by the video stream of Martian landscape from the approach camera in Pathfinder’s backshell.
Gabe gripped Jeff’s hand tightly. “Good god. Look at the Valles Marineris.”
“Yeah. I’m trying to imagine what it will be like looking out the window at that.”
“I’m trying not to.”
GUIDANCE, “Entry interface.”
FLIGHT, “Rog, EI.”
PAO, “Pathfinder is now at an altitude of 126 kilometers, entering Mars upper atmosphere, 572 kilometers from the landing site, and six minutes twelve seconds from touchdown. Parachute deployment will occur in four and a half minutes. Chute deployment on the Viking landers took place at Mach 1.1. However, Pathfinder has a newly designed parachute based on MER and MSL techniques and materials, and will deploy at Mach 2.05, following MSL’s entry procedure. The new chute decreases Pathfinder’s on-chute ballistic coefficient and reduces the time spent above Mach 1.4, resulting in reduced parachute area oscillations and, hopefully, improved landing accuracy. Further, the Viking landers were ballistic on approach, possessing no guidance system, where Pathfinder utilizes an Apollo-like guidance system derived from MSL, and developed exclusively for this mission by Grey Aerospace Chief Engineer and mission crewmember, Dr. Gabriel Frederick.”
Jeff winked at Gabe. “And let’s hope it works.”
“Somebody needs to tell Chrissie to chill,” said Abby.
Jeff glanced at her. “Why?”
“She’s nervous.”
“How do you know?”
“When she gets nervous, you can’t shut her up.”
Jeff chuckled. “Eh, she’s doing fine. Leave her alone.”
Gabe gasped and pointed at the screen. “Look! The Morava Valles. It’s almost there.”
PAO, “Pathfinder is presently crossing over the Morava Valles, approximately 120 kilometers west of the landing site, at a velocity of 1,135 meters per second. Parachute deployment is scheduled to take place in 61 seconds. Just to reiterate, owing to Mars’ distance from Earth and the subsequent communications delay, we are observing events that actually took place thirteen minutes ago. In fact, Pathfinder has been on the ground for about ten minutes now and, hopefully, its first images from the Margaritifer Basin are already on their way to us.”
GUIDANCE, “Chute deployment in 50 seconds.”
FLIGHT, “Rog. 50 seconds.”
Jeff could feel his pulse and respiration rates rapidly rise. He gulped.
Susan reached around Gabe and grasped Jeff’s shoulder. “Calm. It’s not like you’re having kittens.”
He chuckled, nervously. “No, it’s a lot worse.”
Gabe leaned forward and peered intensely at the image.
“How’s it look?” said Jeff.
“I don’t know. I can’t… Oh god!”
“What?”
“I think that was the crater at the southeast end of the Loire Valles chaos. If it was, we’re on the southern edge of the site. We could be as far south as the crater. Oh god, Jeff, we’re gonna miss it.”
“By how much?”
“I dunno, 15, 20 kilometers.”
“Are we still going to be in the plain?”
She whimpered. “I don’t know.”
GUIDANCE, “Chute deployment! And… WE HAVE A CHUTE!”
A cheer erupted around the room.
FLIGHT, “Copy! Chute.”
The camera image suddenly jerked westward as Pathfinder’s flight path instantly steepened.
“Gabe?” said Jeff.
“I’m not sure. I think we’re okay. But I’m pretty sure we’re way south.”