Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1)

by Gregory Gates

  They climbed into Andy and hooked up.

  “Ah, fresh air,” said Abby.

  “Yeah, didn’t expect to get quite this low while we were doing this.”

  “Uh huh, and we’re not done yet.”

  “Jeff,” said Gabe, “we’ve got the airlock and we’re on our way back. Did Andy get there?”

  “Yeah, we’re sitting in him right now, hooked up. We were about empty.”

  “Us too. We should be there in a couple minutes.”

  “Okay. I don’t think we’re gonna wait for you. We’re just gonna head on down to the Sabatier, charge tanks and inflate. That okay?”

  “Fine, we’ll meet you there.”

  “Roger that. On our way.” He pointed south. “Abby, the Sabatier’s that way.”

  “Rog.” She started Andy’s engine, grabbed the joystick, pulled forward and turned south. “Hey, I’m driving on Mars! Hee, hee, hee. Off-road racers of the world, eat your hearts out.”

  “Well, Ms. Parnelli Jones, while you’re enjoying yourself, why don’t you find our broke-down kitchen module and let’s have a look at it while we’re in the neighborhood?”

  “Roger.” She selected the module on Andy’s computer search grid and punched GOTO.

  Five minutes later, she pointed ahead of them. “There it is,” and two minutes later she pulled up alongside the habitat module.

  Jeff looked down at the broken wheel. “Ugh. That looks worse than the pictures. Broken wheel and wedged down between two rocks that are too high to jack it over. Aye che’mama.”

  “Any ideas?”

  “Not at the moment. Sue, you copy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you and Gabe stop by this train wreck and grab some pictures, and we’ll put the brain trust at Newport to work?”

  “Sure.”

  Abby groaned. “Boss, you know that’s our kitchen. If we can’t get it out of there I think we may have a wee little problem.”

  “Oh, we’ll get it out of there, one way or another. We’ll just need to come up with a plan. Onward.”

  Twenty minutes later Abby pulled up alongside the Sabatier reactor and a collection of storage tanks on wheels, all connected by hoses to a manifold on the reactor.

  “Alright,” said Jeff, “let’s move like we have a purpose, I’m dying to get out of this suit. The N2 tank is already full, so all we need is water, LOX, and LH2. We can fill the CO tank later.”

  “Roger.”

  They connected the storage tank service hoses to the three tanks in the Genesis undercarriage. “Alright, Ethel, fill ‘em up.”

  “You know, if my mother had named me Ethel, as soon as I was old enough I would’ve beat the crap out of her.”

  Jeff laughed. “I wouldn’t blame you. Hit it.”

  “Here it comes.” She punched three buttons on the control panel activating pumps that filled the tanks. While the tanks were filling, Gabe and Susan arrived.

  “How’s it going?” said Gabe.

  “Just about there.” At 90% capacity Abby shutdown the pumps. “Okay, that’s it.”

  “Rog,” said Jeff. “Hang on.” He closed the supply valves on the Genesis tanks, opened an electrical box on the undercarriage and punched a button labeled INFLATE. The control valve on the LN2 tank opened, and the module immediately began to expand.

  “Whoa, cool,” said Abby.

  “Cool is right,” said Gabe. “It’s going to be freezing in there.”

  “Heaters are on,” said Jeff. “It’ll be tolerable.”

  “Define, ‘tolerable,’” said Susan.

  “What he means,” said Gabe, “is your flesh won’t freeze upon contact with the atmosphere.”

  “Oh, well that’s comforting.”

  Seven minutes later when the module was fully inflated at 7.2 psi, the LN2 valve closed, and the LOX valve opened. And three minutes thereafter the Genesis was completely pressurized at 10.3 psi with a 70-30 mix of nitrogen and oxygen.

  “That’s it,” said Jeff. “Abby, top off the LOX tank and let’s get on with it.”

  “Roger.” She topped off the LOX tank, and drained the hoses with gas from the Sabatier’s purge tanks.

  They disconnected the hoses and capped the connections.

  “Okay,” said Jeff, “Abby, Sue, inside. And don’t dilly dally.”

  “We’ve got a lot of dust on us,” said Susan. “Like it or not, this may take a while.”

  “Understood, just get on with it. Gabe and I will have a look around.” While Abby and Susan climbed into the airlock, Jeff and Gabe wandered out into the flat, twenty meters or so south of the Sabatier and the line of eight habitat modules that had been staged by Amos and Andy. The area was covered with rover tracks, evidence of Amos’ and Andy’s surveys. “What do you think of this site?”

  “It looks fine, just like it looked in the images. Flat, level, sandy, few rocks, no craters, and plenty big enough.” She glanced around. “Not much of a view.”

  “Does it matter? We don’t have any windows.”

  “No, I suppose not. Look,” she pointed south-southeast, “see the peaks on the horizon?”

  “Yeah. Those are the ones southeast of the crater?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where you want to relocate Pathfinder to?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Well, we definitely have line-of-sight from here.”

  “They’re nearly a thousand meters above us. With but a couple of small blind spots, a relay up there should give us full comm coverage for at least a hundred kilometers in every direction.”

  “That would be a nice backup for direct comms with the orbiter.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, well, while we’re waiting, shall we have a look around the trailer? Make sure everything is as it should be?”

  “Sure.”

  The ‘trailer’ was essentially a modified Bigelow Aerospace Genesis II module – a miniature version of the Sundancer – on wheels, with a tow bar that could mate with the hitch on either of the rovers. On Earth the 18.4-foot-long 8.3-foot-diameter module, including the airlock and undercarriage, weighed 3,160 pounds, vastly exceeding the rover’s towing capacity, but on Mars it only weighed 1,200 pounds. They had reduced the Genesis II’s weight considerably, and gained a small amount of interior space, by eliminating roughly one-quarter of the outer shell layers, as the module was designed to operate in Mars thin atmosphere, not in the void of space. Still, at 470 cubic feet, the trailer’s interior volume was only about seven percent that of the Sundancer, of which the central truss consumed almost one-third. It was cozy, and with all four of them inside, very cozy.

  Most of the trailer’s power came from an array of solar cells imbedded in the outer layer of the shell, and covering the upper half of the module. Rechargeable batteries were located in the truss. A Boeing-built plutonium-powered “Multi-Mission Radioisotope Thermoelectric Generator” or MMRTG, identical to that on the MSL and located under the airlock floor, provided emergency power and supplemental cabin heat. But though its anticipated service life was in excess of 15 years, the MMRTG only produced 125 watts of electricity, barely enough to power an incandescent light bulb. Suspended within the undercarriage were tanks containing water, oxygen, nitrogen, hydrogen, waste discharge, spare fuel for the rover, and a compact Sabatier reactor to scrub exhaled CO2 from the atmosphere.

  The Genesis had its own unified microwave communication subsystem and navigation suite, including an S/Ka-band high-gain dish antenna, four flush-mounted S-band omnidirectional antennas and four VHF scimitar omnidirectional antennas located in pairs on the four corners of the module. When connected, an umbilical provided access to the rover’s communication, navigation, video, and command and control systems as well. In the absence of GPS, surface navigation was conducted utilizing a combination of ranging with transponders and the S-band system and high-gain antenna look angles, including those on the Pathfinder orbiter in geostationary orbit 10,583 miles above Mars’ surface. Once
the station and relay communications suites were in place, the location of the Genesis trailer and rovers could be accurately fixed at any given time to within 15 meters.

  When suited up, the crew’s ground communications were entirely VHF, but were relayed via S- or Ka-band from the rovers, Genesis, or the station. Comms with Earth could be direct, via the high-gain antennas, or relayed via the orbiter, offset 60º west of their location, thus providing virtually constant communications with Earth, albeit with a 20 to 45 minute round-trip delay depending on the distance between the planets. Their only anticipated complete communications blackout with Earth would occur in nine months when Mars was in solar conjunction, and behind the sun. The blackout would last about three weeks, though in an emergency a relay via one of several deep space satellites might be possible.

  Jeff ran his gloved hand along the side of the outer shell and looked at the streaks. “Not much dust.”

  “No, the shell’s pretty aerodynamic; the wind should keep it reasonably clean, though the undercarriage is already pretty dirty.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem, we anticipated that.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “All in all, looks pretty good.”

  “Yeah.”

  Jeff knocked on the side of the airlock. “Abby, Sue, how you guys doing in there?”

  “Keep your shirt on,” said Abby, “we’re getting there. We’ve got most of the dust and sand collected. The vacuum works pretty good, but once you’re inside we’ll probably need to do some additional cleanup. We’re getting out of our suits now, but as you know it’s really cramped in here.”

  “Rog. Take your time.”

  “Probably another 20 or 30 minutes. This is taking longer than it did in the sim.”

  “Okay. Well, Gabe and I are gonna get started on siting the hab.” He turned to Gabe. “Okay with you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Alright. Why don’t you take Amos and run on over and grab the suit room, and we’ll get it sited.”

  “Okay.”

  Jeff walked to the southeast corner of the station site and picked a spot for the first of their habitat modules. All the rest would be sited relative to it. As Mars had no magnetic poles, magnetic compasses were useless. Thus Amos and Andy used geographic features in conjunction with the USGS maps derived from Viking mission imagery to determine true north. The station would be sited on a true north-south axis so the solar cells on the roof of each hab module – which could only be tilted, but not rotated – could maximize usage of the sun angle at local apparent noon; on that day, 12:05:48 and 6.9º south.

  Once Gabe had the suit room module in tow she swung around and lined up due east of where Jeff stood, then slowly proceeded forward on a true westerly heading.

  Jeff stepped out of the way. “Okay, right… there!”

  Gabe brought Amos to a halt.

  “What do you think?”

  “Looks good to me.”

  Abby’s voice came over the radio. “Jeff, Gabe, we’re inside and the airlock’s depressurized. All yours.”

  “Roger that,” said Jeff, “on our way.”

  Gabe climbed out of Amos and stared at the lone tuna can. “Well, it’s a start.”

  Jeff smiled. “Yeah. How you feeling?”

  “I’m tired, and hungry. I never imagined a little walking on Mars would be so exhausting.”

  “Yeah. Well, after seven months in space it’ll take some getting used to. Come on, let’s get out of these suits.” They walked to the Genesis and Jeff opened the airlock hatch. “Ladies first.” Once inside the airlock, Jeff closed the hatch, slapped the REPRESS valve, then glanced at his watch. “It’s funny. We’ve only been here four hours and I’m already kind of getting used to the place.”

  “Uh huh. I think I’d be a lot more excited if I wasn’t so tired. I just want to eat and sleep.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a long day, and it’s only a quarter past noon.” He watched the pressure gauge and when it reached 5 psi, he plucked the vacuum wand off the bulkhead and started vacuuming the dust off Gabe’s suit. The airlock was seven feet wide, seven feet high, and three feet deep between the inner and outer hatches, and also served as the module’s bathroom, with a chemical toilet at one end that sealed automatically when the airlock was depressurized to prevent evaporation of the effluent. Suited up and with both of them inside there wasn’t enough room for either to bend over, and just barely enough room to turn around.

  As Mars fine dust would quickly clog conventional filters, both the vacuums and air filtration systems for the Genesis and the surface habitat utilized cyclonic separators, and the canisters could be accessed and emptied outside. Gabe had worked with Dyson Ltd to design and build the units. Once they were relatively free of dust and the airlock’s pressure had stabilized, they helped each other out of their suits, cleaned up, changed into coveralls, and Jeff opened the inner hatch. Unlike the outer hatch that was large enough to walk through in a Mark III suit, the inner hatch was a mere two-feet in diameter and opened into the rear end of the truss. Jeff climbed through, dropped onto the Genesis’ floor, and glanced at Abby and Susan. “Hello.”

  “Hi,” said Abby. “Good timing. Lunch is just about ready.”

  “Excellent. I’m starving.” He wiggled past their suits, piled on the floor in the corner, and stood, sort of. Susan was the only one that could stand up straight in the Genesis, the others had to lean over the truss to avoid banging their heads on the inner wall of the shell.

  The kitchen, such as it was, was located in the central portion of the truss and consisted of a small refrigerator, microwave oven, hot plate and sink. Though minimalist at best, as they now had gravity, cooking – and eating – was much easier than in space.

  Gabe came through the hatch behind Jeff. “I smell food.”

  “It’s just about ready,” said Susan.

  Abby passed out cafeteria-style serving trays and mugs, and Susan dished up scrambled egg, bacon, and cheddar cheese enchiladas topped with reconstituted salsa verde, along with sliced pears, and coffee. Then they all took seats on the floor, leaning against the bulkhead, and ate. It was the first time in seven months they could drink without a straw.

  The Genesis had a table and chairs that folded out of the truss, but it only sat two, as the unit was principally set up for exploration in teams. In a pinch it could accommodate all four of them for up to two weeks. In the event of a major solar flare, if they had time they would all enter the Genesis and seek shelter in a deep, narrow ravine about ten kilometers southeast of the station. If they didn’t have time, or the Genesis was away on an exploration mission, they would gather in the airlocks, which possessed significantly better radiation shielding than the Genesis and habitat modules.

  There were no beds in the Genesis; they slept on the floor on inflatable mattresses. After brunch, while Gabe and Susan washed dishes, Abby and Jeff inflated mattresses and laid them out on the floor beneath the truss with pillows and blankets. Then they refilled the water and oxygen tanks on the PLSSs, and connected their batteries to the charging system. “This afternoon you and I can set up the high-gain antenna, then jack up the suit room, remove the wheels, and install the airlock.”

  Abby yawned and nodded. “Okay.”

  “Gabe, what time’s sunset?”

  “About a quarter past six.”

  Abby glanced at her watch. “If we sleep for a couple hours, are we gonna have time to do that?”

  Jeff shrugged. “We have lights, and it shouldn’t take all that long.”

  “Jeff,” said Susan, “I vote we just take the rest of the day and tonight off. We just got here and we’re all exhausted. And a two-hour nap isn’t going to help all that much. I know what the flight plan says, but we didn’t anticipate being this tired. Let’s get some rest and not make any mistakes because we’re too tired to know what we’re doing.”

  He glanced at Gabe, she nodded, then at Abby.

  “Works for me.”

  “Okay, sou
nds reasonable. But we won’t have the high-gain till tomorrow.”

  Gabe shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, we have a good S-band signal from the orbiter on the omnis. Newport shouldn’t have all that much traffic for us tonight. Besides, we can always use Andy’s high-gain if we need to.”

  “Alright. Sue, looks like the ‘ayes’ have it. Motion carried.”

  She smiled. “I love democracy.”

  “As much as you love gravity?”

  She scratched her forehead. “Hmmm, I’ll have to think about that.”

  “Yeah. Okay then, let’s get some sleep.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Thursday, October 6, 2016

  MSD 50751.366 (Sol 1)

  Jeff opened Amos’ tool chest and retrieved a cordless impact wrench and a 12” Crescent wrench.

  Abby turned and walked back toward the Genesis. “I’ll get the other ones from Andy.”

  “Okay.”

  “I forget, what size socket do I need?”

  “Five-eighths inch.”

  “Oh, yeah. Back in a minute.”

  Each of the nine habitat modules had four wheels and four scissor jacks. The jacks were placed equidistant between the wheels and were used to establish a uniform floor level for the entire station and level each individual module. Each jack sat on a shallow aluminum 12” dish-shaped footpad to minimize sinking into the sand, and arrived affixed to the wheels with a single bolt rather like a hubcap. While waiting for Abby, Jeff went around to each wheel of the suit room module, removed the footpad, and set it and its bolt under the nearest jack.

  When Abby returned they set about bolting the footpads to the base of each jack, then scissored them down with the impact wrenches until they were firmly seated in the sand.