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

by Mark Terence Chapman

  The two men hopped on the maintenance sled they had “borrowed” for the mission and exited the bay. Using small bursts from the sled’s thrusters, they moved around the curve of the station until they were in the correct location. Their magnetic boots and two safety tethers were all that held them to the sled, which was essentially an open platform with maneuvering thrusters and steering controls, used for working on the outside of docked ships. Nothing separated the two men from vacuum but their EVA suits.

  The feeling of exposure, of being naked under the stars, was one that some people never got used to. In extreme cases it caused intense vertigo, making the victim feel he was on the verge of falling forever. Although the two men had trained briefly on the sleds under Murtagh, the sensation of hanging by his feet still made James a bit queasy.

  He wished he could tell Security where they were going, just in case, but he knew they’d only try to stop the duo. “I’m not sure stealing all this equipment was such a good idea.”

  “Hey, compadre, I would have been assigned one of these suits and some of the equipment when I started work tomorrow anyway; and besides, we’re not stealing anything; we’re just borrowing it.”

  “Uh-huh. Tell that to Security. Last time I checked, joyriding was illegal too.”

  “Well, we had to do something, now didn’t we?” Daniel consulted his heads-up display. “All right, it’s time. You ready?”

  “Not really, but let’s go before I chicken out.”

  “Good man. Hold tight.”

  James held onto the waist-high safety railing surrounding the perimeter of the sled. Daniel triggered the sled’s thrusters, aiming outward from the ODF and facing absolutely nothing but interstellar space.

  “Hold on, Kim, we’re coming to save you.”

  James grimaced. Yeah, but who’s going to save us?

  CHAPTER 8

  Engineering Marvels: Orbital Docking Facility (ODF)—By the early twenty-second century, humanity had permanent mining colonies on Mars. Although the gravity well of Mars is less than four-tenths that of Earth, it is still prohibitively expensive to launch ore into orbit and thence to Earth. Mars needed a space elevator of its own. However, Mars had a serious impediment that Earth lacked to the implementation of its elevator: its moons. Phobos and Deimos orbited closely enough to Mars to collide with the elevator’s ribbon cables. The solution eventually chosen was to nudge the moons into higher orbits.

  Phobos at only 22.2 km and Deimos at a miniscule 12.6 km are actually captured asteroids rather than naturally forming moons. As small as they appear to the naked eye, Phobos and Deimos still mass millions of metric tons. Relocating the moons took the concerted efforts of hundreds of people representing the national Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA), the European Space Agency (ESA) and the Russian Space Agency (RKA). However, the challenges encountered were more a matter of scale than ones requiring any new technology. The same organizations had already demonstrated the feasibility of moving smaller asteroids nearly a half-century earlier for the construction of the first ODF.

  — Excerpt from Encyclopedia Solaris, 2176

  * * * *

  A bright spark spied from the corner of his eye drew James’ attention. He touched helmets with Daniel to communicate; their radios were turned off to avoid detection. “It looks like someone is heading for the observatory, but I couldn’t tell who.”

  “It doesn’t really matter. Both the kidnapper and Security will end up there eventually.”

  A few minutes later, Daniel observed, “Yep. There goes the other ship. I wonder who’ll win the race?”

  “Either way, at least we’re not doing this for nothing.”

  Daniel nodded, making a metallic scraping noise as the two helmets rubbed together. “Sorry; I was just agreeing with you.”

  “How much longer?”

  “Until we get there?” He checked his heads-up. “Forty-nine minutes. You might as well get comfortable.”

  * * * *

  “Here we go; get ready to flip.”

  James’ eyes shot open. Asleep? How could I nod off at a time like this? “Uh, yeah. I’m ready.”

  “Okay. On three; one…two…three!”

  On cue, Daniel worked the controls to invert the sled into position for retrofire. It took only a short puff to flip the sled, and another puff to arrest the tumble.

  “Whew. I’m glad that worked the same in real life as it does in the simulator. We’re still on target.”

  “What do you mean ‘the same in real life’?” James shouted, “You’ve never done this before? What did you do the whole time you were here?”

  “Calm down, amigo. I told you, interns aren’t allowed to do anything dangerous. What we’re doing here constitutes dangerous. But I had plenty of opportunity to practice in the simulator when I was here.”

  “Jeez. Any more surprises to spring on me?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “Next time, remind me to ask before we leave—assuming we live long enough for there to be a next time.”

  “Okay, I’ll remind you. Meanwhile, brace for retro.”

  “I’m braced, I’m braced. Just get it over with.”

  “Here goes.” Daniel triggered both of the jets on the bottom of the rig at full power. The thrust wasn’t great, but it built up over the next fourteen minutes until it canceled most of their velocity.

  They continued to coast until they were within nineteen minutes of their rendezvous with Phobos.

  “Um, James.”

  “Don’t tell me.”

  “Remember that question you asked about surprises.”

  “I said, don’t tell me.”

  “Okay, I won’t; but it’s time for a leap of faith—literally.”

  James sighed. “I don’t like the sound of that. What horrible thing do you want me to do now?”

  “We have to get off the sled.”

  “Get off? Where? There’s nothing out here but vacuum!”

  “Yes, I know. But we’re still going too fast. We have to slow down some more, but our suits don’t have enough thrust to compensate for the mass of the sled. We have to go the rest of the way by ourselves.”

  “Whoa! You honestly expect me to just step off this sled into nothingness? Are you insane? I’m an areologist, Daniel, not an astronaut!”

  “I think we’ve already established my level of insanity. You’re welcome to stay on the sled if you like, but you’ll fly right past Phobos if you do.”

  James took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Okay, okay. How do you want to do this?”

  “Good man.” Daniel explained the rather simple procedure.

  James shook his head inside his helmet. “I don’t know about this, but I guess I don’t have any choice. All right; let’s do it.”

  The two men unclipped their tethers from the sled and used them to hook their suits together, facing one another a meter apart, to keep them from drifting apart. Then they simply climbed over the safety railing and stepped off the platform, feet still pointed toward Phobos.

  Or at least where Phobos will be, assuming Daniel’s calculations are accurate. Better stop thinking along those lines if you still want to have a stomach lining left by the time we arrive.

  If standing on the platform felt naked to James, standing on nothing at all was worse—much worse. It made his skin itch. Naturally, he had no way of scratching inside the suit.

  “Perfect,” Daniel declared, consulting his HUD. “We’re lined up correctly for the burn. Okay, it’s time. On the count of three we fire our thrusters together.”

  Each held onto the other with his left arm, leaving the right hand free to work the thruster controls. On cue they triggered the thrusters.

  “Remember,” Daniel reiterated during the burn, “it’s possible that one set of thrusters has a bit more reaction mass in it than the other. As soon as one thruster cuts out, the other of us has to cut his thruster as well, so we don’t get thrown into a spin.”

/>   “I got it, I got it.”

  Shockingly soon, Daniel’s thrusters cut out. James cut his a split second later. The slight delay did produce a dizzying spin.

  “Quick, James! You have to compensate or we’ll be out of position!”

  “Okay, okay! How do I compensate?”

  “Use your SPS! Did you forget your training already? How do you think I got us this far?”

  “Oh. Right. Sorry. Hang on.”

  Daniel and James were hardly the first spacers to have a thruster mishap in their EVA suits. As a result, all suits were equipped with a spatial positioning system. When initiated, it triangulated the positions of three major points in space—stars, planets, moons, ODFs, etc.—and automatically triggered the thrusters to cancel roll, pitch and yaw. Fortunately, James’ suit thrusters still contained enough CO2 to accomplish this. It only required a couple of quick puffs to correct their spin.

  “Jeez, you had me worried there for a moment, James.”

  “Had you worried? I’m going to have to give this suit a serious cleaning before I can return it!” He paused a moment for Daniel’s chuckle. “Are we still on course?”

  “Just a sec. Hmm. Well, the bad news is that we’re a bit off-course. The good news is it’s only by a hair. If you’ve still got a drop or two in your tanks we should be able to get back on course easily enough. Hang on while I transmit the coordinates to your suit. Then it can fire the thrusters to get us back where we need to be.”

  The two were still touching helmets to communicate by direct sound conduction.

  “Transmit? But if we turn the radios back on, won’t that give away our position?”

  “It might if we transmit long enough, but this will be a short burst. It’ll only take a fraction of a second. That shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  The transfer was completed as quickly as Daniel had stated.

  “Daniel, if I’m the only one thrusting, won’t that just put us in a spin again?”

  “It would if we stayed like this. What you need to do is unclip your suit from mine and turn around so your maneuvering jets are between us. With the thrust centered between our bodies you should be able fire without throwing us off course.”

  “According to your calculations.”

  “Of course.” Both men chuckled, if perhaps a bit nervously.

  “Very well,” James said. “Here goes.”

  Each man unclipped his suit from the other and Daniel helped James rotate in place until they were back to front. Then they clipped themselves back together.

  “Okay, Daniel. Hang on. This’ll be over real fast.”

  Indeed, the burst dictated by James’ SPS lasted only three-tenths of a second, but it was barely short enough. The red ‘Tank Empty’ indicator illuminated on James’ heads-up display.

  “Let’s hope we don’t need another course correction. That was the last of the CO2.”

  Daniel consulted his own HUD for a moment. “I think we’re okay, but we’ll find out for sure soon enough.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring!”

  They resumed their previous face-to-face orientation. A minute went by in silence.

  “Um, Daniel. We left Barsoom with quite a bit of velocity from the centrifugal force. I know we killed most of that with the thrusters, but have you calculated how fast we’ll be going when we hit Phobos?”

  “Hit it? We’re not going to hit Phobos. We’re going to miss. Didn’t I tell you?”

  * * * *

  “C’mon, move it!” Ramirez shoved Kim ahead; not forcefully enough to reflect anger, merely urgency. “They’re right behind us.”

  The two exited the shuttle and emerged into the small room that constituted Sagan Observatory’s departure area.

  Kim spoke over her shoulder as Ramirez continued to push. “Look, if you keep shoving me like that I’ll trip and that’ll just slow you down.”

  The man ignored her.

  She continued speaking. “I don’t think they bought my story about why I’m here early. They must have been tipped off by Barsoom Security; otherwise, someone would be here to greet me. What are you going to do, hold off everyone with a knife?”

  “I don’t know! I just need time to think. Which way to the bridge?”

  “We don’t have a bridge. This is an observatory, not a ship, remember? And besides, I don’t know where the control room is, exactly. I’ve never been here before. I wasn’t supposed to start work until tomorrow.”

  “Then I guess we’ll have to wing it. You’d better hope we don’t run into someone on the way. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I will if I have to.”

  “Oscar, it’s still not too late to turn yourself in. You’ll get a fair trial and you can tell what really happened.”

  “Oh sure. Without any proof? Who’s going to believe me?”

  He peered through the doorway, left and right. The corridor was cut out of solid rock and coated with a clear airtight sealant. The observatory was almost entirely contained within the moon for protection—all but the telescopes and sensor arrays on the surface. If not for splashes of color on the walls, and the nonskid surface on the floor, the passageway might have been mistaken for a mineshaft with unusually smooth walls.

  “No one’s coming. Let’s go.” Ramirez grabbed Kim’s arm and pulled her along. They passed several doors before reaching a crossing hallway. “Any suggestions?”

  Nothing in either direction shouted “control room this way!”

  Kim pointed with her free hand. “See the arrows on the walls? You follow the yellow one to get to crew’s quarters. The green one leads to the infirmary, blue goes to the commissary, and red takes you straight to the control room. Just follow the arrows.”

  Ramirez’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I thought you said you’d never been here before.”

  “I haven’t, but I read the orientation packet they sent me before I left Nautilus.”

  He grunted. “We’d better hurry. If this is the main hallway, someone’s sure to come along eventually.”

  They turned right and took off at a lope, with Ramirez still gripping Kim’s arm.

  * * * *

  “Sagan Observatory, this is Barsoom Shuttle 3, preparing to dock.” Chandra Mason fidgeted in her seat, impatient to get this over with.

  “Acknowledged, Shuttle 3.”

  “Where are they now, Marty?”

  Dr. Martin Ferré, Executive Director of Sagan Observatory and lead astronomer, said, “The security cams show them heading this way.”

  “Okay, good. Clear out all nonessential personnel. Above all, offer no resistance. Do whatever he tells you.”

  “As you wish, Chandra, but I don’t like this. That madman could kill someone. We’re unarmed. We don’t have any way to defend ourselves. There aren’t even any locks on the doors, for Christ’s sake!”

  “Marty, calm down. That’s exactly why I told you to cooperate. Don’t give him any reason to hurt anyone and you should all be fine. We’ll be there in a few minutes and we’ll take care of the situation.”

  “I hope you’re right. I sincerely hope you’re right.”

  * * * *

  “Whattaya mean we’re gonna miss it! We’re going to miss the entire moon? Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you, James. I told you, I calculated everything out before we left. Unfortunately, with our limited thruster capability, there was no way to slow down enough to keep from possibly killing ourselves if we flew directly into the moon. So I calculated our trajectory so we would just miss.”

  “What the hell good does that do us? We can’t help Kim—or ourselves—from the far reaches of the solar system!”

  “If everything goes as planned, that won’t happen.”

  “Plan, what plan?”

  “It’s quite simple, really. If my calculations are correct, Phobos should pass right in front of us. If we time it correctly, we can fire a grapple at the moon a
nd hopefully snag something as it goes by, just before we sail behind it.”

  “If? Hopefully? That’s your brilliant master plan? Take a one-in-a-million shot with a compressed-air grapple gun and hope we snag something as we go by?” James started to hyperventilate.

  “Hey, conserve your air! I never said it was brilliant. It was all I could come up with on the spur of the moment. Besides, it isn’t one shot. I brought along four of the grapplers—two each. I figured we wouldn’t have time to reload if we only brought one.”

  “Oh, well, that makes all the difference, then. Instead of a one-in-a-million shot, we have a four-in-a-million shot! I feel so much better now.”

  “Relax; it’s not as bad as it sounds. If my calculations are correct, Phobos should pass about fifty meters in front of us. The spools on these grapples hold four times that much wire, so we should have plenty to spare.”

  “I wish you’d stop saying ‘if my calculations are correct.’ I get more nervous every time you say it. By the way, Daniel, what grades did you get in math and orbital mechanics, anyway?”

  “Not bad. Why, don’t you trust my calculations?”

  “Do you really want me to answer that? And another thing, even if we snag the moon as we sail past, it’s not really going to slow us down, will it? Won’t our forward momentum cause us to whip around the moon and slam into the trailing end of it?”

  “Well, if my calc…um…never mind. Let’s just say that it’s about fifty-fifty whether we slam into the side of the moon, or end up dangling from a cable trailing behind the moon as it continues on its merry way. A lot depends on where we are in relation to the moon when we hook on.”

  “Oh wonderful. The news just keeps getting better and better. So, we can miss the moon and die, or we can not miss it and die. Great, just great! How much time do we have left to live?”