The Imperative Chronicles, Books One and Two: The Mars Imperative & The Tesserene Imperative

by Mark Terence Chapman

  James tried to speak, but again produced only a gurgle.

  “Don’t try to talk. Are you asking what happened to you?”

  James nodded, frowning.

  Szumska continued in her most motherly voice. “You were very lucky. You have second and third degree burns on much of the right side of your body—mostly second degree, fortunately. There should be little if any scarring. Your eyes suffered some minor damage, so I applied an ointment to speed up the healing process. Your vision will be blurry for a day or two, but that’s all. I’ve applied an antibiotic salve to your dermal burns. It’s already healing the damage, but you’ll need to keep applying it topically for a few more days. Are you following me so far?”

  James nodded.

  “Good. The most serious injury was to your lungs, from smoke inhalation and the searing heat. There’s damage, but you’re lucky you weren’t born fifty years ago. I’ve injected you with a course of nano medibots. They’re in there right now removing scar tissue and mending tears. They should be done in another couple of days, and then you ought to be ready to resume your duties as long as you don’t overdo it. In the meantime, the breathing mask is to help you get enough oxygen.”

  James slumped with relief. Then he pointed to the occupant of the other bed in sickbay.

  “Alvarez? He’s in much worse shape, I’m afraid, but he wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for you. When the engine blew it killed Bernie instantly, poor man, and it tossed Alvarez across the room. That’s the only thing that saved him. That, and you. The blast threw him out of range of the fire, but between the heat and smoke, he had at most seconds to live if you hadn’t dragged him out. He’ll live, but he’ll be seriously scarred, and I’m not sure even the medibots can repair all the damage to his lungs.” She shook her head sadly.

  “Now you get some rest. We can talk more later and I’m sure the captain will want to talk with you.”

  James nodded and closed his eyes, saddened at Jamison’s death. He’d liked the fidgety little man.

  At least Alvarez is going to make it.

  This time, when he slept he was untroubled by ghosts or inner demons.

  CHAPTER 6

  Engineering Marvels: Orbital Docking Facility (ODF)—By the end of the twenty-first century, as Earth’s population swelled beyond twenty billion, a steady stream of ore was already heading Earth’s way.

  This necessitated the construction, in 2108, of a second ODF, called Odyssey—in honor of SIR Arthur C. Clarke’s popular novel and movie. Odyssey is anchored in the Indian Ocean, southwest of the Maldives, making it convenient for eastern Africa, the Middle East and central Asia. Over time, the volume of ships coming and going resulted in the ODFs additionally serving the function of air traffic controllers for all vessels in orbit.

  It was not long before Mars required its own ODF to facilitate shipping refined metals to Earth. However, because the Mars mining colonies did not have the infrastructure Earth had, it was impractical to build Mars’ first elevator there. Instead, a smaller structure was constructed at ODF Odyssey and slingshotted, furled cable and all, to Mars, where it was snared by waiting tugs and inserted into orbit. The cable was lowered to the waiting anchor platform and ODF Barsoom was born in 2114. The platform was expanded over time until it was nearly as large as an Earth ODF.

  — Excerpt from Encyclopedia Solaris, 2176

  * * * *

  “He’s coming out of it, captain.”

  James opened his eyes to see Szumska straightening over the bed. Capt. Singh, Daniel, and Kim stood by the door of the small sickbay.

  “Hi.” Hey, my voice works! He flashed a weak smile.

  Capt. Singh wore a look of concern. “How are you feeling, son?”

  “Okay, I guess.” James’ tongue felt furry, oversized.

  “The doctor says you should be up and about by tomorrow, once the sedatives wear off and she extracts the medibots.” The captain took a deep breath. “Son, Paco owes you his life, and I owe you a debt of gratitude. He’s a good man and a valued member of the crew. Without you we would have been down two men instead of one.”

  James acknowledged the captain’s thanks with a nod. “What happened? What caused the explosion?”

  Capt. Singh frowned. “Right now all we know is that the injector manifold blew and started the fire. But we don’t know why it blew. All we’ve gotten from Alvarez is that he and Jamison were playing cards nearby when it happened. Everything seemed fine until it wasn’t. Mayfield was out having lunch, so he didn’t see anything. Did you notice anything unusual or suspicious?”

  James shook his head. “Not really. I left the galley when I felt the explosion and went to Engineering to see if there was anything I could do to help. I couldn’t have been in there more than a minute. Then when we got outside, the gravity went. You arrived a few seconds later.”

  Singh nodded. “Just in time to see some fancy zero-gee acrobatics. Good work.”

  James shrugged. “You can thank Elmer Murtagh for that.”

  Capt. Singh smiled. “I’ll do just that next time I see him.”

  “So, what about the fire?”

  “That’s the strange part. The explosion somehow also took out the automatic fire-suppression equipment and the internal sensors—which is why we didn’t respond sooner. We weren’t sure at first where the explosion occurred. That shouldn’t have been able to happen.

  “We had to put the fire out manually, but we managed. The drive will be down for another few days while we fabricate replacement parts. Right now it’s still a mess. Fortunately, we were able to get the GFG back up in less than an hour. Jennifer doesn’t care for performing medical miracles in freefall.”

  She snorted in the background.

  “You rest up and we’ll see you back at work tomorrow.”

  James closed his eyes and nodded wearily. “Aye, aye, captain. Those dishes must really be piling up by now.”

  “Dishes? Ha! Martino and the others have gotten over whatever bug they had. They’re all back at their regular jobs. No, Mr. Lim is going to fill in for Alvarez until he’s fit for duty; you’ll be taking over for poor Bernie. You worked enough shifts under him to handle the Cargomaster position until we reach Mars. I’m sure it won’t be as rewarding as kitchen duty, but….”

  James’ eyes opened again with a snap. Cargo? No more dishes?

  Szumska spoke up. “Your five minutes are up captain. The patient needs his rest.” She shooed the three visitors out of the room.

  Daniel and Kim called out “See you soon!” and “Get better!” over their shoulders as they left.

  James’ eyes closed of their own accord. Yeah, it definitely could be worse.

  * * * *

  Two weeks later, James, Kim, and Daniel were relaxing in the Commons over a cup of synthcaf. Following James’ release from sickbay, he was sad that he had missed Jamison’s funeral ceremony, so the others took him for a cuppa Joe to cheer him up. In the days since, this daily get-together had become something of a ritual for the three.

  “You know,” Daniel began, “Maybe we should talk to our employers about hazardous-duty pay. I don’t know about you two, but I don’t recall explosions everywhere I go being mentioned in my job description. What’s next, alien invasion?”

  The others chuckled.

  “I’ll tell you one thing.” James said, “It’s nice to stick with one job for a while. I actually feel like I know what I’m doing.”

  Kim grinned evilly. “Hey, that’s a first!”

  James stuck his tongue out at her. I can see why Daniel likes her. She has the same kind of irreverent attitude that he has.

  His initial irritation when Daniel began spending more time with Kim and less with him had passed. Now the three were nearly inseparable during their free time.

  “You know,” Daniel said, “we ought to start our own club. You’ve heard of the in-crowd? We could be the ‘im-crowd’.”

  James looked at Kim in confusion. “Do you know w
hat the heck he’s talking about?”

  She shrugged. “Not a clue.”

  Daniel savored the moment with a glint in his eyes before continuing. “Sure, the im-crowd. After all, we’re Kim, Jim, and Lim. Only people whose names end with ‘im’ can join!”

  Kim shook her head with a crooked grin. “You’re one sick puppy. I like that in a man.” Her grin widened.

  “Sure,” Daniel continued. “With this club we could make a big impact on society.”

  Kim took the cue. “Yeah, imagine the possibilities.”

  James was not to be outdone. “You two are impossible!” His mouth was set in a wry twist.

  “As a club,” Daniel went on, “we can’t be imitated.”

  “Or implicated!” Kim continued.

  “Or imcarcerated.” James now had a twinkle in his eye.

  “Hey, wait a minute. That’s not a real word.”

  “Maybe not, but it can serve as the impetus for an imaginary club consisting of immorally imotional people seeking immunity from impersonal imdividuals acting with impunity!”

  Daniel blinked once, then twice, before looking at Kim and snorting. “Kim, I think we’ve created a monster.”

  She shrugged helplessly. James merely looked smug.

  * * * *

  The next two months passed without event. A few more meteoroids passed within sensor range, but none close enough to worry about, and there were no more explosions or other crises. Following three weeks in sickbay, Paco Alvarez returned to limited duty; but not before thanking James profusely for saving his life. He showed James holos of his wife and baby and said that James would forever be in his prayers.

  Because the Cargomaster job didn’t consume all of his time, for the rest of the trip James continued to help out now and then wherever and whenever he was needed. In due course, he developed reasonable skill at piloting, navigation, sensor analysis, engine maintenance, parts fabrication and, of course, dishwashing. Somehow he didn’t mind his later stints in the galley quite as much as he had before.

  All this hopping from job to job isn’t helping my geology skills any, but at least I don’t feel like a complete idiot in every other department. Maybe it’s a good thing they didn’t need a geologist onboard. This way I got a chance to spread my wings a bit. He grinned at the mental image. Not that I’ll have any use for wings on Mars.

  He heard Janet Sverige’s voice over the open intercom. “ODF Barsoom, this is Starward ship Ares Flyer on initial approach.”

  “Acknowledged, Ares Flyer,” came the reply after a brief delay. “We have you on our sensors.”

  “ETA fifty-six minutes.”

  “Roger. We’ll keep an eye on you. Barsoom out.”

  * * * *

  The im-crowd was already packed and having synthcaf in the Commons.

  “I’m really going to miss you two,” Kim lamented between sips.

  “Same here,” Daniel replied. “But we’re really not going to be all that far apart. Phobos is only a v-mail away from Barsoom and Mars.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s not the same as being there in person. We can’t kill each other in Crunchball, or enjoy a…meal…together.”

  James caught the look between the two, and the momentary hesitation where she obviously substituted “meal” for something more personal. He smothered a grin.

  “It’s not like we’ll never see each other again,” Daniel replied, “I’m sure there’ll be a need for you to visit the station now and again, for supplies or something. And James, too.”

  “Probably, but what are the odds of us both visiting the station at the same time?”

  Daniel didn’t have a response to that. They all sat glumly for a time, finishing off their synthcaf in silence.

  * * * *

  “Barsoom, this is Ares Flyer on final approach.”

  “Acknowledged, Flyer. You’re cleared to dock at bay thirty-three.”

  “Thanks, Barsoom. See you in a few minutes. Please notify the coroner that we had a fatality. We’re bringing him in on ice.” Jamison’s sealed body was being kept in a storage hold that was open to vacuum.

  “Will do, Janet. I’m very sorry to hear that. Who was it?”

  Sverige sighed before speaking. “It was Bernie.”

  “Damn. He was a good man. He’ll be missed.”

  “He already is, Tiger. Flyer out.”

  Minutes later, Sverige called again. “Barsoom, Ares Flyer docking maneuver complete.”

  “Welcome back to Mars, Flyer. The coroner is waiting by the airlock.”

  “Roger, Barsoom. I’m unlocking the hatch now. Jennifer is waiting for him. She’ll take him to the…to Bernie.”

  “Roger that.”

  “I’ll come see you after we get things squared away in here.” Sverige had a strict policy of nonfraternization with the crew on her ship. The men on Barsoom, however, were fair game and Chucky Merrill was one of the more eligible bachelors on the ODF. Some people found his fluorescent green afro, abundant facial piercings and yellow cats-eye lens implants off-putting; but to Sverige these traits merely added to his idiosyncratic charm. The lenses also lent him his nickname.

  “I’m looking forward to it, Tiger. Dinner’s on me.”

  “You’re on. Oh, I almost forgot. Security will be taking statements from everyone aboard the Flyer, so tell everyone to stay in their quarters for now.”

  “Will do, Chucky. Ares Flyer out.”

  * * * *

  Two hours later, after Barsoom security had finished taking everyone’s statements, Daniel, Kim and James waited in the Commons with their bags for the official okay to leave.

  The captain entered the room. “Ah, here you are. I just wanted to thank the three of you for your hard work while you were here. You all did excellent jobs and you’re welcome back on the Flyer any time. You, especially, Mr. McKie. The dishes never looked better.” He snorted and grinned at James’ flush of embarrassment. Kim covered her mouth to keep from laughing aloud.

  “Seriously, Thanks for saving Paco’s life. If there is anything I can do for you, just ask. I mean that.”

  James squirmed under the praise. “Thank you, captain. But I only did what anyone else would have done in that situation.”

  “Perhaps, but perhaps not.” Capt. Singh pursed his lips. “I’d like to think that I would have run into a raging fire like that to save a crewmember, but one never knows until one is actually faced with the situation. The important thing is that you did do it, and for that you have my deepest admiration and gratitude for your actions, along with my respect for your willingness to pitch in where needed. Good luck on Mars, son.”

  James blushed from his collarbone to the tips of his ears. If his hair could have blushed, it would have. “Thank you, sir.” They shook hands.

  With that, the captain left to finish saying his goodbyes to the other passengers.

  “Well,” Daniel said, “you don’t have to hop on the elevator until tomorrow morning, James. And the observatory shuttle won’t arrive to get Kim and Prof. Langer until tomorrow afternoon, so we have the rest of the day to explore Barsoom and get some dinner. What do you say we find our quarters, unpack, and meet in front of Louie’s for lunch?”

  Kim nodded. “Sounds good.”

  James frowned. “Louie’s?”

  “From what I hear,” Daniel replied, “it’s famous, or perhaps infamous, for its pseudo ‘Chicken’ Florentine. It’s supposed to taste like the real thing.”

  James shrugged. “It’s okay by me. But I wouldn’t know what the real thing is supposed to taste like anyway. I haven’t had real chicken since…I don’t know…when I was a kid sometime.”

  “Me neither, but it’s supposed to be good.”

  “Fine by me. Let’s do it.”

  The trio exited and headed for their quarters, resolving to meet as soon as possible to resume their ongoing Crunchball war.

  During the preceding months they had proved remarkably evenly matched. Daniel was clearly the bet
ter athlete, but James compensated with precise technique and Kim with superior dexterity. Daniel and Kim took turns seizing the lead throughout the months-long competition, with James gamely keeping a close third. Right before the end of the trip, James ripped off two straight victories to finish on a winning note.

  As a result, the final tally was twenty wins apiece for Daniel and Kim, and nineteen for James. He vowed to knot the score at twenty the next time they played.

  Unfortunately for the three friends, events would conspire against them. Their sixtieth match wouldn’t occur for many months to come.

  * * * *

  ODF Barsoom bore little resemblance to its original spoked-wheel shape. Operating for more than a half-century, it had undergone an amazing transformation. The gaps between the spokes of the wheel had been filled in gradually with various structures as the demands on the space station increased. Then the growth continued upward and downward, perpendicular to the wheel. In fact, the only part of the original structure that remained essentially undisturbed was the outer periphery, which was used as docking bays for transiting ships. Its appearance now was more like that of a jellyfish, with the elevator ribbon cables taking the place of tentacles.

  The first thing the trio did after lunch was to visit the Esplanade. It was the only arc of the outer ring not used for docking. The Esplanade was famed for the huge window that granted a spectacular view of Mars below.

  They stood there for long minutes, soaking in the vista. To the west, a dust storm obscured the horizon. To the north, part of the tiny ice cap was just visible. Everywhere else there was reddish-brown sand, mountains, valleys, and desolation. No trace of humanity was visible from an altitude of nearly 38,000 kilometers. Not a speck of blue or green appeared anywhere—the colors of home. Not a single fluffy white cloud scudded across the sky. Everything was cold and alien.