Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1)

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Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) Page 104

by Gregory Gates


  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m a captain.”

  “Wow. I’ve never sat at the table with a captain before.”

  “Relax, Petty Officer, we eat like everybody else.”

  “What did you do in the Navy, sir?”

  “EOD.”

  “Was that useful on Mars?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “No, not really.”

  The young lady stared at Ghita. “Ma’am, is she a Martian?”

  “Well, she was born on Mars and this is her first visit to Earth, so, yes, I suppose so.”

  The petty officer held her hand up with some apprehension. “May I touch her?”

  Gabe chuckled. “You can do better than that.” She unsnapped Ghita’s harness. “You can hold her while I eat.” And she handed Ghita to the petty officer.

  The petty officer gasped. “Oh my god!”

  “Just hang onto her. She’s sort of a rag doll. Unlike Sir Isaac Newton, she has little comprehension of gravity. It will take her a while to get used to Earth. She’s lived in space for more than half her life.”

  The others at the table simply sat there with their mouths hanging open.

  As people finished their meals more and more gathered around the table.

  Gabe looked around and smiled. “I’ve never had an audience at supper before.”

  After a moment another petty officer across the table from them said, “Ma’am, are you in the service?”

  Gabe smiled and shook her head. “No. My title is Doctor.”

  “You’re a doctor?”

  “Of Philosophy. I have a Ph.D.”

  “In what?”

  “Aeronautics and Applied Physics.”

  “Wow.” The sailors glanced around the table at each other.

  Jeff stared at the sailor. “Son, pick a six digit number. You know, something between one hundred thousand and one million.”

  “Sir?”

  Gabe slapped Jeff on the shoulder. “Don’t.”

  “I’m just making a point.”

  “Son, pick a number.”

  Gabe groaned.

  The sailor said, “Alright, 341,906.”

  “Okay. Now, pick another one.”

  “Um, okay. Uh, 694,240.”

  “Very good. Now multiply those numbers together and give me the square root of the product.”

  The sailor looked at Jeff with some consternation. “I can’t, sir. I don’t even remember what both numbers were. Besides, I’d need a calculator.”

  Jeff looked around the table. “Anyone else want to try it?” All he got was shaking heads and blank stares. “Hard problem, isn’t it? Gabriel?”

  She glared at him. “I’m going to make you pay for this.”

  “I have no doubt.”

  “The product of 341,906 times 694,240 is… 237,364,549,720. And the square root of that is, um, 480,200.73 and change.”

  Everyone at and around the table just stared at her.

  She smiled and took a bite.

  “How do you do that?” said the sailor.

  “I have kind of a mental chalkboard that I can manipulate just like a chalkboard on the wall. I can see the numbers. Then I just do the math. I also have eidetic memory, so I can remember it all.”

  Jeff patted her on the back. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why she was our navigator.”

  A sailor standing behind the other side of the table raised his hand.

  “Yes?”

  “Sir, what’s Mars like?”

  “Cold and dusty.”

  “How cold?”

  “Well, where we were, in the Margaritifer Basin about fifteen degrees below the equator, on a warm summer day it may get up to freezing. At night it frequently drops to below minus one hundred degrees Fahrenheit. At the poles in winter it gets cold enough to freeze the atmosphere, which is about 95% carbon dioxide, and it snows CO2 ice.”

  There were soft gasps around the table.

  Jeff smiled. “That’s not the worst of it. All that atmosphere falling to the ground, creates enormous low pressure systems over the poles that draw in atmosphere from the rest of the planet creating winds in excess of one hundred miles per hour. Those winds kick up dust, generating dust storms that can cover the entire planet for weeks, or even months, and block up to 99% of the sunlight.”

  “Did you experience one like that?” said another sailor.

  “Yes we did. We had one come up about a month after we landed. It lasted about six weeks. Couldn’t see a thing outside.”

  “What did you do?” asked the sailor holding Ghita.

  “Well, we did what most sensible people would do in conditions like that; we stayed inside and, um…” He glanced at Gabe who closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. “And, uh,” he pointed at Ghita, “made her.”

  The crowd laughed.

  Another hand went up.

  “Yes?”

  The sailor pointed at Jeff’s chest. “Sir, the wings on your flight suit are different than the ones all the pilots onboard wear, and even yours and hers are different.”

  Jeff nodded. “Yeah. These are astronaut wings. Mine are Navy; Gabe is a civilian astronaut. Her wings were issued by NASA.”

  “What was re-entry like?” asked another.

  Gabe frowned. “Harrowing. It only took twelve minutes from atmospheric entry interface to splashdown, but in the interim we peaked at 6.2gs. At that point it feels like there’s an elephant sitting on you. But that wasn’t nearly as bad as the Mars landing. That only took seven minutes, but we peaked at just a bit over 11gs. I passed out.”

  “11gs?!”

  “Uh huh. If you weigh 150 pounds here on Earth, at 11gs your body weighs 1,650 pounds, and everything inside your body is trying very hard to get out the back. I’d prefer not to do it again.”

  There was muted laughter.

  Another asked, “Did you find any signs of life on Mars?”

  Jeff shook his head. “Nope, not a thing. We reconfirmed what the various Mars rovers have discovered; that once, billions of years ago, Mars may have possessed an environment conducive to the rise of biologics, but we found no sign of that ever happening. Our theory is that there just wasn’t enough time for biologic development before the cataclysmic event that created the Borealis basin occurred, and blew away Mars atmosphere and any surface water that existed.”

  “What was that?”

  “The Borealis basin covers roughly the northern 40% of Mars, and is generally believed to be an impact crater from a meteor about the size of Pluto. That took place around four billion years ago during an era known as the Late Heavy Bombardment, so whatever potential Mars had for life form development vanished a long time ago.” He shrugged. “So, no Martians. Well, one.” He pointed at Ghita.

  “But is she really a Martian?”

  “Well, she was born on Mars and until today has never been to Earth. So, what else would she be?”

  “Why is she so weak?” asked the sailor holding her.

  Gabe shrugged. “Lack of muscle development. She spent the first six and a half months of her life on Mars, which only has 38% of Earth’s gravity, and the next seven months in the weightlessness of space. We had exercise equipment on our ship – a bike, a Bowflex, and a few other things – but they were beyond her ability to use. We tried a lot of isometrics, but that’s kind of hard with an infant. They’re generally uncooperative. But once she gets the hang of Earth gravity, we think she’ll catch up pretty fast. We believe she has the genetic makeup to achieve normal human stature and strength, she just needs some time.” Gabe handed Ghita her spoon. Ghita took it and stuck it in her mouth.

  “She knows what to do with a spoon?”

  “Sure.”

  “Does she eat regular food?”

  “No. We decided it would be simpler not to introduce her to regular food until after we got home. She knows what to do with a spoon through imitation, but so far she’s been exclusively breastfed.”

  “Are you glad to
be home?” asked another sailor.

  Gabe laughed. “If you saw our habitat on Mars, our habitat in space, and our home in Rhode Island, you would know the answer to that question.”

  Saturday, October 13, 2018

  1314 local time

  As two tugboats slowly maneuvered the Makin Island into a pier at Pearl Harbor Naval Station, Jeff, Gabe, with Ghita harnessed to her, Abby, and Susan watched from the starboard aircraft elevator. “Good grief,” said Jeff, “there has to be a couple thousand people down there.”

  Gabe groaned. “At least.”

  “What’s with all the limousines and black SUVs?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Two women stood at the edge of the pier, jumping up and down and waving furiously. Jeff chuckled and pointed. “Looks like those two have been missing their husbands or boyfriends for a while.”

  Abby peered at them. “I don’t think so. That’s Chrissie and Heidi.”

  He looked hard. “I’ll be damned, it is.”

  They all grinned and waved.

  Once moored and the gangplank secured, the team made their way down to the quarterdeck. Jeff saluted the Captain. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  “It was our pleasure. You’ve given my crew an experience they’ll never forget.”

  They all shook hands, then Jeff turned to the Officer of the Deck and saluted. “Request permission to go ashore.”

  The officer smiled broadly and returned the salute. “Permission granted, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Sir, may I shake your hand?”

  Jeff grinned. “You most certainly may.” And he grasped the young officer’s hand firmly. “Good luck to you, son.”

  “And to you, sir.”

  As Jeff stepped onto the gangplank, turned and saluted the colors, the Boatswain once again piped, “Attention,” rang four bells, and announced, “Captain, United States Navy, departing,” and “Commander, United States Navy, departing.”

  They all rushed down the gangplank and into the waiting arms of Chrissie and Heidi.

  Chrissie was screaming and crying. “You made it! You’re back!”

  Jeff nodded, hugged and kissed her. “Yeah, we made it. And we wouldn’t have made it without you two.”

  After a lot more hugs and kisses Jeff looked around. “So, what’s all this?”

  Chrissie shook her head. “I wasn’t allowed to say no to this one.”

  “Huh?”

  “The President is over there.”

  “The President? You mean like… of the United States?”

  “Yeah, that President.”

  Jeff groaned. “Oh, great. We’re tired, we just want to go home.”

  “We’ll get you there soon enough. In the meantime, you have to do this. You didn’t think it would be easy, did you?”

  “I’ve tried not to think about it at all.”

  She took his hand. “Come on. The sooner we get it started, the sooner it will be over.”

  “Oh, god,” said Abby. “I just want to go find a bar and have a half dozen Mai Tais… and a cigarette.”

  In a tent pavilion in a parking lot at the head of the pier the President warmly welcomed them.

  Jeff and Abby saluted.

  The President returned their salute then, smiling broadly, shook all their hands. “Welcome home! You did it!”

  Jeff grinned. “Yes, sir, we did it. But I’ll tell you, it was a long trip and we’re glad to be home.”

  “I’ll bet you are.” He stepped over to Gabe and Ghita. “Dr. Frederick, it’s a joy to see you again.”

  “Thank you, sir. It’s a real pleasure to see you again too.”

  “And who have we here?”

  “Sir, this is Ghita.”

  “Ah, yes, our little Martian.” He shook his head and stared at Ghita, a look of wonderment on his face.

  Gabe turned slightly. “Ghita, can you shake hands with the President?”

  Ghita buried her face in her mother’s shoulder.

  “Sorry, sir, she’s a little overwhelmed. Until yesterday she had never seen a crowd or an ocean, or felt gravity like this, or even knew that Earth existed.”

  “I think I’d be a little overwhelmed too. Well, you can formally introduce us later, once she gets a bit more used to we Earthlings.”

  Gabe grinned. “Yes, sir.”

  “By the way young lady, I think you may be an undocumented immigrant, but we’ll fix that.” The President gently patted Ghita on the head. “Welcome to Earth. Give it a little time, and you may come to like it.” He stepped over to Abby. “Commander Nolan, welcome home.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Did you have a good flight?”

  Abby laughed. “Yes, sir, it was fine. But like Jeff said, a little long.”

  “I can only imagine. How’s the leg?”

  “The leg is doing fine, sir. Thank you for asking. Now that we’re home and it’s all healed up, I’m looking forward to having Sue’s collection of space junk removed from it.”

  The President laughed. “Very good.” He stepped over to Susan. “Dr. Lú, welcome home.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President.”

  “I understand you have advanced the sciences of space medicine and Martian geology orders of magnitude beyond what we knew just two and a half years ago.”

  She smiled. “I’ve been keeping busy, sir.”

  “I imagine so.” He stepped over to Chrissie and Heidi. “Miss Mallory, Dr. Christensen, I always knew you would get them back?”

  Chrissie smiled and nodded. “That was the plan, sir.”

  “And a good plan it was.” He stepped back. “I’m still awaiting some administrative technicalities being worked out by Congress and NASA, but we’ll get to that later. In the meantime I do have something for each of you that I can manage by myself.” He nodded to an assistant who stepped up with a presentation case. “Captain Jeffrey Grey, Dr. Gabriel Frederick, Commander Abigail Nolan, and Dr. Susan Lú, for especially meritorious service to your country and the world in the advancement of our knowledge of our universe and at extreme peril to yourselves, I hereby award each of you the Presidential Medal of Freedom with Distinction.” One by one he pinned the decoration on their flight suits and shook their hands. “Congratulations. And, thank you.” He stepped over to Chrissie and Heidi. “Ms. Christine Mallory and Dr. Heidi Christensen, for exemplary service to your country and your fellow citizens I award each of you the Presidential Citizens Medal.”

  They both shook his hand and thanked him.

  He stepped over to Gabe. “And finally, Ms. Margherita Concordia Grey, though it was without your knowledge or intent, you have, like your parents, provided especially meritorious service to your country, our world… and your world in the advancement of our knowledge of our universe and at extreme peril to yourself, and I hereby award you the Presidential Medal of Freedom.” He pinned the medal on her and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

  Ghita picked up the medal, stared at it for a moment, then stuck it in her mouth.

  EPILOGUE

  Four months following their return, at a ceremony in the White House East Room, the President of the United States, on behalf of NASA, awarded Jeff, Gabe, Abby and Susan the Congressional Space Medal of Honor. Furthermore, on behalf of the United States Congress, he presented the entire Ares Mission Team with the Congressional Gold Medal. Also present were the Chief of Naval Operations and the Governor of Hawaii. The CNO presented Jeff with two pair of silver stars, and his promotion to Rear Admiral, United States Naval Reserve, Retired. And the Governor of Hawaii brought something they had long awaited. After months of inter-governmental bickering, the President ended the question with an Executive Order, directing the CDC to alter its regulations regarding infants born off world, and the Governor, in response, presented Ghita with her birth certificate. It stated, in part:

  Margherita Concordia Grey

  Date of Birth: MSD 51046

  Place of Birth: Grey
Station, Margaritifer Basin, Mars

  It drove the computers nuts.

  Two months later, Jeff and Gabe were married. Their initial plan was to have a small private ceremony on the lawn at Wrentham House, but that was overcome by events. The demand for invitations was so great they were forced to move to a slightly larger venue – the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine in New York City, the fourth largest Christian church in the world, and it was filled to capacity.

  Prior to the ceremony Jeff entertained a special guest in one of the side chapels – Sheikh Salem Al-Fahad Al-Sabah. “Salāmu `Alayka, Sheikh. It’s good to see you again.”

  “Wa-Alayaka As-Salām. Allah be praised. It is good to see you again also, Captain. Though I understand it is now, Admiral?”

  “Yes. Some things are beyond understanding.”

  “I believe it to be well deserved.”

  “Thank you. I hope you don’t mind this meeting in a Christian chapel.”

  “Not at all. This is a wonderful day for you.”

  “Thank you. Sheikh, I have a few things for you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, sir. Chrissie?”

  Chrissie stepped forward and opened her briefcase.

  “First, here we have a framed and signed photograph of the four of us suited up and standing in front of the station on Mars. You will note the flag of Kuwait flying with the others.”

  “Ah, magnificent. I don’t know what to say.”

  “No need to say anything, sir. Second,” he picked up a four-inch square Plexiglas cube containing a rock, “here is a piece of Mars.”

  The Sheikh gasped.

  “This is feldspar crystals contained within a matrix of pyroxene, and is proof that igneous rock exists on Mars. It should make a nice paperweight.”

  The Sheikh slowly turned the cube over in his hands. “I am at a loss for words.”

  And finally Jeff pulled a very old leather-bound book from the briefcase. “I believe this belongs to you. I once put it in my spacesuit leg pocket and took a walk on Mars. At one point I stopped, pulled this out, opened it and, though I don’t read Arabic, prayed to Allah for our safe return. It seems he listened. Sheikh, your god and mine are the same. We need to find a way to stop this needless fighting.”

 

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