The Martian Conspiracy

by Read, John

  Later that evening, Kevin, Avro and Amelia met at my apartment to work the problem. Working the problem was a term used by NASA when something went wrong. Explosion on Apollo 13? Just work the problem! Fire on the 2045 expedition to the asteroid Ceres? Just work the problem!

  Kevin plugged his car into my apartment’s circuit, lending us the power to microwave a couple pizzas. He figured we’d be doing some serious thinking, so we’d need pizza.

  The four of us sat around my round table. A single LED bulb hung over us, lighting the table but leaving the room in darkness.

  “Whatever we do, we need to avoid being caught by the MDF,” Avro said. “That’s a priority. We can’t save the colony from a prison cell.”

  “I think we should leak the conspiracy to the media.” Kevin said. “The people have a right to know.”

  I countered, “If we announce that the Alamo is causing the storm, they’ll deny it and blame us for building a shitty system. We don’t need the public bashing down our doors.”

  “We can’t let them learn that we know that they plan to blow the domes.” Amelia said, “If we’re going to stop them, we’ll need the element of surprise. And they’ll take me out if I go public. You can count on it. The Alamo would welcome a rebellion. It would give them another excuse to take people out.”

  “Okay then, forget the media. What if we get Central Control to mobilize the police?” Avro recommended. “You know, storm the castle.”

  “They could but the MDF soldiers have guns. The police don’t,” Amelia said. “Our most pressing issue is that the MDF is going to start blowing up domes. We’ve got to focus on that problem first.”

  “Agreed,” I said.

  Avro nodded, “There are fourteen domes excluding the Alamo and the spaceport. How do we figure out which dome they’re gonna blow?”

  “Let’s call that problem number one,” I said, standing up and heading over the room’s holovision wall screen. I used the screen as a whiteboard. At NASA we were trained to map out our problems visually. This seemed like an opportunity to put that training to use.

  “I’ve got problem two,” Amelia said. “If they attempt to blow a dome, how do we evacuate the population?”

  I wrote, ‘2 - Evacuate population’.

  “What if they blow more than one dome at once?” Kevin asked.

  “Prevent multiple attacks,” I said and added that to our list.

  Amelia addressed Kevin’s question directly. “The Alamo wants to blame the disaster on the storm. Blowing one dome at a time is the only way to do this.”

  “Don’t the domes have an autorepair system?” Avro asked, looking at Kevin.

  “Yeah, for sure. Imagine a dome breached by a meteor.” Kevin smashed one hand into the table, simulating the impact. “One drone seals the hole from the inside, while another flies in from outside and welds on a patch. Because this system works so well, there’s no evacuation for small breaches.”

  “Trust me,” Amelia said. “They’re gonna have to make a freaking big hole. Can’t we just pull the alarm?”

  “The domes don’t have pull alarms. Only a real emergency will trigger an evacuation.” Avro said.

  “I think we’re onto something,” Kevin said. “During a storm, even a small hole will trigger an evacuation.”

  “Why is that?” Amelia asked.

  “Because the outside drone can’t do its job,” Kevin answered. “If we know which dome they plan to blow, we can trigger the evacuation by making a small hole in one of the domes. That way, we’ll at least ensure the safety of the population.”

  “How long does it take to evacuate a dome?” Avro asked.

  Kevin thought about this for a moment. “During the last exercise, it took only five minutes. That seems fast, until you realize that no colonist is over five hundred yards from a pressure channel. Most people can run this in under two minutes. If you’re going to lose air pressure, you run for your life.”

  “Amelia, can you tell us exactly how they plan on blowing the dome,” I said.

  “Plastic explosives,” Amelia said. “Four MDF officers will go into the storm and drive to the target dome. They’ll lay several explosive devices along the base of the dome and fall back to the canyon, detonating the explosives with a short-range transmitter.”

  “That seems pretty low tech,” Avro commented.

  Amelia shrugged, “It’s effective. That’s what they’re going for. They also want it to seem like an accident.”

  “So to sum up,” Kevin said, “We make a small hole in the dome, triggering the evacuation, while the soldiers are on their way back to the canyon.”

  “That’s not enough time," Amelia said. “The saboteurs will learn about the evacuation and think their explosives pre-detonated.”

  “Sounds like a personal problem,” Kevin quipped.

  “What would you do if you thought your explosives had pre-detonated?” I asked.

  “You hit the big red button just to make sure,” Avro said.

  “Exactly,” I said. “And if they hit the button, the real bomb goes off, and our evacuation plan is for nothing.”

  “Not exactly,” Amelia said. “Not if we blow the dome.”

  “Okay, you’re crazy,” Kevin said, pointing at Amelia. I’m sure Avro and I thought the same thing, but for the moment, we just sat there stunned.

  “Listen,” Amelia said. “We evacuate the colonists into the channels, and then trigger their bomb. We won’t get caught and the confusion will buy us time.”

  “I can’t even fathom the concept,” I said in a loud voice. I pushed my chair away from the table and stood up. “How the hell could we even think of pulling it off?” I almost walked out of the room but instead paced around, allowing my brain to process Amelia’s idea. Was she part of this all? A mole planted to make sure the plan got carried out? She couldn’t be! No conspiracy was that sophisticated.

  I studied her face, trying to read her. She was either crazy or brilliant. Probably both. I sat back down. We knew we couldn’t fight the MDF by traditional means, but this was insane.

  Amelia continued. “The bombs use a simple fuse, stuck in some C4, with a battery and a radio transmitter. I can hack that.”

  “Whatever you say, bomb expert,” Kevin said. He wasn’t completely on board with the idea either. He looked frustrated and got up to leave, but Avro held his arm, pulling him back down into his chair.

  “Listen, we just unplug the explosives from the transmitter and plug it into ours. We wait until the dome is evacuated, then blow it up. If we’re lucky, we’ll take out a few MFD officers while we’re at it.”

  “So you’re telling us we need to go outside? Into the storm?” Avro asked. We all assumed this, Avro just wanted to hear her say it.

  Amelia answered, “Yes. There’s no way around that.”

  “Amelia, this brings up a whole new set of problems,” I said. “How will we know when the soldiers leave the base and how do we find them out in the storm? I bet you can’t see ten feet out there.”

  “Well, the second problem is easy,” Avro said. “There is a way to see through the storm.”

  “Yeah, flashlights,” Kevin said. We all glared at Kevin and I imagined trekking across Mars holding a Maglite.

  “There is a modification for the spacesuit visors,” Avro continued. “It’s a mix of night vision and personal radar. This allows the suits to see through the dust. But the software isn’t preinstalled in the spacesuits. I’ll need to download the software package enabling that feature.”

  “I can tell you exactly when the MDF soldiers leave their base,” Kevin announced, casually taking a bite of pizza.

  “At least you’re good for something,” Amelia muttered.

  Kevin rolled his eyes at Amelia. “Thanks for your vote of confidence, Mrs. Peacekeeper. The entire colony, including the Alamo and the spaceport, is a single pressurized vessel. Unless any of the barriers are up, which they’re not. At least not yet anyway. Does everyone know
how an airlock works?”

  “Of course,” Amelia said. “You get inside, the air is pumped out, the hatch opens, and you go outside.”

  “And where does the air go?” Kevin asked.

  “Back into the dome,” I answered.

  Kevin snapped his fingers, “Thus raising the air pressure in the colony!”

  “So we just watch for an increase in air pressure?” I asked. “It’s really that simple?”

  “It’s really that simple,” Kevin said. “The base’s airlock is big so the change in air pressure will be significant. Ten millibars at least. The weather sensor on your wristwatches will sense it without issue. In fact, I’ll set up the alert right now. You’ll know exactly when the MDF uses the airlock.”

  “Alright, let’s talk strategy,” Amelia said and got up from the table and walked over to the holovision. “John, can you bring up a map of the colony?”

  Avro, Kevin and I got up and walked over to the living area and sat on the couch. I grabbed my tablet and tossed a map onto the HV.

  The thirteen-dome circumferential was centered on the map like the Japanese flag. Using the tablet, I told the software to highlight the exterior surface roads. One road ran east-west from the spaceport to the circumferential, going down into the canyon and up the other side.

  “Okay,” I said, walking over to the HV. “From the time the saboteurs exit their airlock, it’s a fifteen minute drive to the circumferential using this route here.” I ran my finger along the road. “Is that about right, Amelia?”

  “That’s the route,” Amelia confirmed. “They’ll blow one of the closest domes first, probably the eight or nine o’clock dome. These are also the domes where the unemployed miners live. This means that after we get Kevin’s alert, we’ll have only a few minutes to get suited up, exit our own airlock, and get to the bombsite.”

  “I guess we’re sleeping in the PDC then,” Avro said.

  Amelia nodded, “Yup.” She stood, joining me at the holovision. I noticed for the first time she was almost a head shorter than me. When we weren’t standing side by side, her confidence added several inches. “After they plant the bombs, they’ll drive back down the same road and take cover in the canyon. They won’t hit the detonator until they’re behind the canyon wall. We’ll get to work as soon as they leave the bombs unattended.”

  “What’s the visibility of the MDF’s suits? Is there any chance they’ll see us?” I asked.

  “During a storm, everyone will have about two hundred meters visibility,” Avro said. “Which means we’ll need to be stationed here.” Avro got up and pointed to a bluff about a hundred meters to the south of the service road. “From there, we’ll be able to spot the MDF’s jeep as they crest the canyon.”

  “From that point on it’s simple,” Amelia said. “We watch them plant the bomb, then switch the detonator from theirs to ours.”

  “Simple?” I said, skeptically.

  “Well, conceptually,” Amelia admitted. “Avro, John, you’ll join me out in the storm. I’ll need you to watch my back as I prep the detonators. Kevin, you’ll need to stay behind to trip the alarm.”

  “And by trip the alarm, you mean punch a hole in whichever dome they are planning on blowing up?” Kevin asked.

  “Exactly. Now, I need each of you to meet me at the PDC warehouse tomorrow morning at 0700.”

  “That’s four hours from now,” Kevin complained.

  “Get some sleep. You’ll need it,” Amelia ordered.

  “Need it for what?” I asked.

  “Training,” replied Amelia.

  With all the solar panels installed out on the surface, our warehouse was empty. I told Jimmy I’d take the morning shift. He said he wasn’t planning on coming in at all, which was fine with us. We spoke to Leeth and let him know we were up to something. He was on call and would stay near the clinic.

  Amelia had already spent an hour setting up when Avro, Kevin and I arrived. The only light in the gymnasium-sized room was a single LED, hanging from an extension cord. Amelia stood under the light beside a table. A blue bedsheet on the table hid several random items. Behind her, two of our team’s spacesuits hung from metal stands. Protective sacks covered the helmets making the suits look like marshmallow men headed to the gallows.

  Kevin looked groggy. “Why couldn’t we have at least slept in until eleven?” he asked.

  Avro looked at Kevin and rolled his eyes. “A dome could explode at any moment and you want to sleep?”

  “All right, Amelia,” I said. “Whatcha got for us?”

  We gathered around Amelia, “Good morning, gentlemen. Hope you’re ready. It’s going to be a busy morning.” Amelia pulled the cloth from the table.

  “Holy shit!” Avro said, drawing out each word.

  “Well, someone certainly knows how to use a 3D printer,” Kevin said.

  An array of crossbows, arrows and a pickaxe rested on the table. I recognized other items from our supply closet, such as radios and cables.

  “Where the heck did you get the files to print these weapons?” I asked. “What would happen if the Alamo or the MDF monitored our SpaceNET use?”

  “Don’t worry, Johnny. I can call you Johnny, right?” Amelia sounded even more confident than normal. “I disconnected your computers from the network.”

  “Then how did you get the crossbows?” Avro asked.

  “I designed them myself. While you characters were having a confab with the puppet government and the weather man, I’ve been planning for war.” Amelia pointed at a distant light switch. The room’s computer recognized the gesture and illuminated the lights around the perimeter walls. I stepped back in pure shock as my eyes took in what surrounded us. We were surrounded by an entire Armada of targets. Humanoid figures stood on the warehouse floor, plastic drones hung on the walls. Some of them even moved.

  “Did you put a target on a Roomba?” Kevin asked, watching the cleaning drone purr along the floor.

  “Yup,” Amelia answered.

  “Nice use of vacuum-formed plastic!” Avro commented.

  “Thank you!”

  Amelia picked up a fiber-plastic crossbow, raising the stock to her shoulder. The split-limb bowstave was huge, nothing like the small crossbows I’d seen in movies. She aimed at an angry looking target thirty feet down range.

  Fwap! A six-inch barb hit the first target right in the head. In the blink of an eye, Amelia pulled a long lever on the bottom of the crossbow. The device went “Cha-Chink” as another bolt clicked into place.

  Fwap! Cha-Chink!

  Fwap! Cha-Chink!

  Fwap! Cha-Chink!

  Fwap! Cha-Chink!

  Fwap! Cha-Chink!

  Six targets now stood with small arrows protruding from their heads. Two of the targets tipped backward and fell to the floor.

  “Daaaaammmmn,” Kevin exclaimed, impressed.

  “Each cartridge holds six bolts. Reload like this,” Amelia said, pulling a spent cartridge out from under the bow, picking up another clip off the table and slapping it in place.

  “Seems easy enough,” Avro said.

  “It is easy,” Amelia said. “But you’re not wearing a space suit.”

  “Oh,” Avro replied. “Right. Question. Why do the targets look like Kevin?” I inspected the targets. At first glance they looked like lifeless mannequins but soon realized they did look like Kevin.

  “I took the template from the personnel files,” Amelia stated with a smug smile on her face.

  Kevin shot her a disgusted look while Avro and I laughed.

  “Avro, Johnny, get suited up and let’s do a radio check,” Amelia instructed. “Kevin, put on this headset. I’ve altered the radios in the suits to use cell phone frequencies, which I’ve digitally encoded for secure transmissions. We don’t want any MDF soldiers listening in.”

  “Remind us again where we found you?” Kevin said.

  “Funny, Kevin,” responded Amelia. “Now take this pickaxe and start practicing your swing. You’l
l need to hit this.” Amelia held up a metal cylinder. “It’s called a breacher. Stick it to the glass, hit it with the axe, and a small charge will force a slug into the glass.” I figured she got the “charge” from our flares. That was the only source of gunpowder in the PDC I could think of.

  Amelia prepped the bows while Avro and I suited up. We practiced loading, firing and reloading with the helmets off. Once we got the hang of the weapons, we practiced with our helmets on.

  The plan was to start with the weapons loaded when we went into the storm. Hopefully, even in the worst-case scenario, we wouldn’t need to reload. If we did, we’d have to grab the spare clips from a satchel over our shoulders.

  After fifteen minutes of practice, we were hitting all of our targets at twenty-five yards, without issue. Avro, who had military training, could even hit the moving targets. Thanks to my aim, we would need another Roomba.

  After the weapons training, we practiced getting into our spacesuits, grabbing our supplies, and entering the airlock. Of course, we knew how to do this but the process usually took minutes. We had to reduce this to mere seconds in order to intercept the MDF soldiers headed for the dome.

  We broke for lunch at eleven, exhausted from the training. Kevin seemed to be the most worn out, even though he spent most of his time leaning on his pickaxe. In the observation deck, Avro stood at the kitchenette making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Amelia sat at a control station drinking a Coke, her feet up on a console and a distant look on her face.

  “What are you thinking?” Avro asked, coming over and sitting beside Amelia.

  “About killing my comrades,” Amelia said. “These were people I trained with, people I bonded with. But now they’re on the wrong side, and I really don’t see any other options.” She pulled her feet off the console and faced Avro.

  “Whatever happens, I’m here for you. All the way.” He paused. “Give me your hand.” Avro held out his hand and Amelia put her left hand in his.

  In Avro’s right hand, he lifted up a sharpie and on the wrist-guard used to block the signal from her military transmitter he wrote: We’re all in this together.