by John Dreese
Adam looked out upon the flock of Plutonium-carrying drone helicopters. Several of the rotors were already slowly spinning thanks to the natural winds on Mars.
“Behold my flock of drones. Go forth and explode,” laughed Adam.
With the drone units now powered up and unpacked, the two astronauts walked back into the Big Turtle through the airlock. Yeva sat down in front of the drone flight control computer. It was specifically designed to handle a swarm of drone aircraft. It kept track of their positions and prevented them from smashing into each other. According to the user manual, this procedure was called deconfliction. Once that potential danger was gone, this computer told each aircraft where to go and when to detonate.
Yeva set about engaging the system. Each launch was a performance. The counter-rotating blades were terrifying to watch as they spun up to speed. They looked like the world’s most dangerous lawnmowers; on a planet with nearly 56 million square miles of land, but not a single blade of grass.
The rotor blades pushed enough air down to swirl up large dust clouds. Dust devils formed all around the launch area. One by one, the drones lifted up and flew away, disappearing over the horizon. Only one detonated within visual sight, but even then it must’ve been a hundred miles away. The red mushroom clouds rose up and began wafting through the atmosphere. It was reminiscent of the towering smoke trails that rise up from forest fires.
The whole launch process took several hours, but it would take half the day for the final detonation to occur. When the completion signal finally came, Yeva breathed a sigh of relief. She looked over at Adam with a tired frown.
“Well, that marks the official end of our main tasks here.”
Adam spent the rest of the day sending out messages to NASA with the hopes of getting some reply. Nothing ever came.
The joy of today’s successful drone activity was dampened by the sense of helplessness regarding the lack of communication with Mission Control. As night fell across the ship, they each lay down in their bunks and went to sleep with the hope that communication would be established soon.
Chapter 26
Adam woke up to the sound of raindrops hitting the windows on the Big Turtle. In that familiar just-waking-up haze, he thought he was hearing the beginnings of a classic Texas storm, one that starts out with a few fat raindrops slapping the windows before turning into a roar. This time, the roar never came. Just slow occasional splats on the windows. His eyelids opened completely and reality sank in.
Still on Mars, he thought disappointedly.
The weather patterns were changing faster than even the best-case scenarios had predicted. The expectation was for the process to take months, if not years. The greenhouse bombs blasted soil, soot, and dust into the swirling upper atmosphere.
After just two days, dark reddish clouds began circling the planet, causing the Mount Sharp region to experience both overcast and sunny periods. Moisture from the polar ice caps had also been blasted sky high, but it took several more days for the moist air to work its way down to the main jetstreams. After a few days of watching the dark red clouds float by, the astronauts saw white clouds appearing and disappearing until soon only white clouds with reddish tints were left. And after all that time, they still could not establish communications with NASA.
Yeva sat at the table, staring out the window at the rain. She heard Adam waking up and looked over at him.
“You know, this is probably the first rain on Mars in two thousand centuries.”
“Interesting,” said Adam. He got out of bed, saying nothing else.
Adam walked over to the communication station, picked up the microphone and powered it on.
“Hello Mission Control, this is Big Turtle transmitting from Mars. As I’ve been saying for many days now, we’ve completed the terraforming tasks and this morning it’s actually raining. Can you believe that? If you receive this signal, please let us know. Um…, yadda, yadda, yadda,” he said pathetically before turning off the equipment.
Adam walked over to the main table and sat in the chair across from Yeva. She continued staring at the drizzly rainfall outside. The pitter patter of rain sounds echoed off the windows. Adam rubbed his neck to get rid of the morning stiffness.
“A million rubles for your thoughts,” said Yeva.
“A million, huh? I’d settle for a ten second phone call to my family. What’s there to say?” he asked hopelessly. “It’s been silent too long. Our radios are working fine. I just don’t get it. What do you think we should do?”
Yeva tapped her fingers on the table. She nodded her head to imply understanding.
“Well, we have two options as I see it. We can bide our time here and wait until Mission Control contacts us. Or, we can pack up and return home.”
Adam had mixed feelings. He desperately wanted to see his wife and family, but there was unlikely to be a warm welcome when he returned. Everything he had planned for after the post-Mars mission was falling into oblivion, the level of which depended on how much of the helmet video Mission Control received. He had to assume they’d received enough.
It was just self-defense, he told himself. That didn’t really matter. He killed a charismatic astronaut and businessman loved by all Americans.
Yeva knocked him out of his daydream. She looked him in the eyes and said, “With Molly and Keller gone, we do have some extra water and food rations, but there is really no reason to delay the return. We’ve initiated the terraforming. We have rock samples. We have core samples – enough to keep the scientists busy for years. We will have to leave eventually. It is a mathematical certainty. Why wait?”
Adam nodded. He looked up from the table and said, “I think something terrible has happened back home. If this is just an antenna problem on the space station, they’ve had plenty of time to redirect all of the other deep-space transmitters toward Mars to get a message to us. Anything. Right now, we’re just… castaways.”
Yeva pounded her fist on the table, “Then we should go now! We should start the return procedures now!”
“Well, what if we’re returning to a smoking rock? Huh? What if something terrible has happened?” erupted Adam.
“Yes, that is a remote possibility, but we cannot stay here forever. I think we should go immediately. Remember - the sooner we leave, the sooner you see your family.”
Adam knew she was right. He told her so with a sigh. His eyes showed true worry. What if something terrible had happened on Earth? Had he failed at the core responsibility of being a parent - to protect his family?
Adam stared at the edge of the stainless steel table. He looked up.
“You know, I admit, I came here for the adventure and glory, but I would trade it all for just a few more minutes with my kids.”
Yeva said with an irritated tone, “Well, you can talk about it with them when we get back. Let us initiate the return trip.”
“Okay, but I have to make one more trip outside to take care of some tasks,” explained Adam.
The rain stopped and the Sun shone down on their little part of Mars. The combination of heat energy and still-low atmospheric pressure made most of the moisture evaporate quickly.
Adam suited up and exited Big Turtle through the airlock, carrying the external pre-return checklist book with him. He walked around to the back of the Little Turtle and saw the dirt-covered, bedraggled parachutes lying on the ground. These chutes were supposed to be used during the final descent into the Pacific Ocean. Instead, they had saved their lives during the landing on Mars.
Adam shook the dirt and mud from them and tried his best to fold them back up. He carefully wrapped them with the hundred feet of deployed cable that connected them to the Little Turtle.
He carefully climbed on top of the structure to put the three parachutes back into their hatches. After stuffing each chute into the respective hole, he delicately reclosed each hatch door. This was a tricky maneuver because the entire top surface of the Little Turtle was covered in fragile solar p
anels. For the final hatch door, he had to hang on to the long-range antenna tower sticking up from the roof. That was the only way to get leverage to close the door.
Adam purposely saved this task for the absolute last day on Mars. The parachutes were crucial to surviving the Earth reentry process. He didn’t want to find out on day one of their arrival here that the parachutes were ruined and they were doomed. That would’ve destroyed morale for the team even before the Mars exploration began.
With one hand still on the antenna, Adam paused and took a look at the horizon. He couldn’t believe the drastic changes that had happened since they’d arrived. Some large fluffy clouds floated over the still rust-colored landscape.
From his vantage point on the roof, he saw the two lonely graves. He stared without realizing how long. The shadow of a cloud engulfed the ship. Adam looked away from the graves and climbed down to the ground. He walked up the ramp and stepped into the airlock.
Once inside, he opened the new checklist that would prepare the facility for the return launch. Step one was to tell Mission Control that you were starting the procedure. He picked up the microphone and pushed the transmit button.
“Mission Control, this is Big Turtle. We are transmitting in the blind here. Again. We hope that somebody there is getting this. The remaining crew consists of Yeva Turoskova and myself, Adam Alston. We are initiating the return phase of the mission. Estimated time of liftoff is about two hours from now. We should be home in about a month. Um, that’s it. Signing off. Godspeed to us.”
For the next two hours the astronauts went through more checklists. Space flight is all about checklists. The green ones, the yellow ones, and finally the red ones that involve matters of life and death.
The only part of the facility that was returning home was the part that brought them to Mars: Little Turtle. Adam transferred the remaining food from the living module to Little Turtle. Yeva transferred the remaining water containers. They walked back and forth like worker ants. The Little Turtle contained enough water to maintain four astronauts on the month-long return trip. However, it was better to have too much and not need it.
By early afternoon, the final walkthrough of the Big Turtle was complete. They each signed the dinner table with a Sharpie; astronaut graffiti of sorts. It said, Yeva, Adam, and in memoriam: Molly and Keller.
Adam looked around and let out a final sigh.
“I didn’t like it here, but I’m going miss this place for some reason. We’re leaving a lot of hope behind.”
Yeva put her hand on his shoulder and said, “It feels like we have lived a lifetime here already. And not in a good way. Let’s go home.”
The two astronauts walked down the hallway connector to the Little Turtle and closed the door behind them. Adam opened a wall plate cover and pushed a recessed switch. The hallway connector popped off the Little Turtle, effectively disconnecting the umbilical between the two ships.
Big Turtle would sit on the surface of Mars for many years before the blowing wind and, hopefully, water-based erosion would tear it down. The onboard systems would function for another few months before the solar panels could no longer supplement the battery storage and fuel cells.
It would sit empty and cold, awaiting some future traveler.
Little Turtle was once again a standalone space ship. The two astronauts put on their space suits and helmets and clambered into their launch seats; this left them lying on their backs facing upward. Just one last checklist for fuel monitoring remained. They would only have about one minute of fuel for the conventional rocket engines to get them off the planet and into orbit. After some time circling Mars, the autopilot would take over and fire the Murch Motor MM10 engines. The Little Turtle would slingshot away from Mars onto the long path back to Earth. The engines would stay on for most of the trip, pushing them home.
Adam turned to look at Yeva.
“Are you ready?”
She grinned a hopeful smile.
“Yes, let us go home.”
Adam flipped up the red switch protector on the rocket ignition toggle. He looked at the digital countdown clock. After several minutes, it finally reached the end.
“Starting countdown: five, four, three, two, one… ignition.”
He pushed the toggle switch over. The ship shook violently as the traditional rocket engines ignited, blasting holes in the Martian soil underneath. This caused a dust storm to swirl out from under the Little Turtle. The old connector hallway crumpled up and slammed into the side of the idled Big Turtle. The cross made of American and Russian flags blew down next to the two graves.
The ship began rising skyward as expected. After just a few seconds of flight it halted and lurched violently to one side. During today’s checklist, they had forgotten to release the grounding cable. The Little Turtle was still attached to Mars. Adam had missed that crucial step.
“Yeva! Did you release the grounding cable?”
“No! I thought you did it when you repacked the parachutes!”
It was the last item on the checklist Adam had taken outside. He’d somehow missed it.
Mars would not let go.
The roar got louder.
“We can’t turn off these engines! We’re in serious trouble!”
Adam knew they only had 45 seconds of fuel left for this phase of the escape. After that, they would die on Mars along with their crewmates. His mind went into overdrive. He rapidly thought through every scenario. With Little Turtle pulling tightly on the cable, there was no way the secondary release method would work now.
Adam unlatched his seatbelt, jumped over to the console and grabbed the remote control for the mini-rover.
The ship lurched and threw Adam to the floor. He clawed back up to the window.
As the ship tugged against the grounding cable, Adam had a hard time keeping his bearings. One hand held him to the ship, and his other hand held the remote control transmitter.
He gave the remote control full throttle. Off in the distance he saw a puff of dust rise up. The little rover was racing toward them, hopping over the random soil drifts and fighting the blast from the rockets.
With his thumb on the throttle, he tried desperately to maneuver the steering stick with his other fingers. The rover came closer and closer. He steered it right toward the bottom of the ship.
“Come on baby, you gotta help us! Hit that cable!” Adam screamed at the racing rover.
It disappeared from view underneath the ship. A loud metallic sheering sound roared up through the floor structure. The rover broke the grounding cable and the Little Turtle lurched violently upward. The sudden jolt caused the long-range antenna on the roof to break and fall over. It slid down the solar cell roof, ripping several panels away and falling past the window.
Adam collapsed to the floor under the intense and sudden acceleration. He tried to crawl to his seat, but the g-forces were just too much; he was pinned down. Yeva reached over and grabbed his hand. He squeezed tight as the ship continued its ascent out of the Martian atmosphere. His other arm wrapped around the frame of his seat.
The surface escape rockets were pushing hard, but the ship hadn’t left the Martian atmosphere yet. With the antenna and a few solar panels gone, the asymmetric aerodynamics caused a lot of turbulence. A low-frequency shaking grew as the ship went faster. Alarm after alarm turned on. Dozens of colorful lights were flashing. The shaking resonated with the escape hatch door.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Yeva focused intently on that door.
Hang in there, hang in there, she repeated to herself.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The door began to buckle.
A crease appeared.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Adam looked over at the black anti-gravity cube. It broke loose from the straps he tied it down with. The cube appeared to have no idea about the intense acceleration they were experiencing. It bounced haphazardly around the cabin. It had so much mass that it left small dents wherever it hit.
It made a clink sound as it bounced against a window. A crack in the glass began to spider, shooting out tiny chips.
Yeva stared at the pulsing door.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
One of the two hinge pins shot out of the crumpling escape hatch door and fired across the cabin.
The anti-gravity cube slammed into the little striped cabinet where the Red Hope capsules were kept. The little cabinet door flung open and poisonous red liquid sprayed out, filling the compartment with deadly red fog.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Screeeeeech!
The escape hatch door blew off and spun out into the blackness of space. The cabin depressurized violently, sucking the poisonous fog out with it. The rush of air outward was so powerful that several of the interior wall panels ripped loose from their moorings and bent toward the escape hatch hole.
Some of the water bags exploded, creating a shower of ice particles resembling frozen rain drops. The crystals fell to the floor immediately as the ship accelerated under rocket power. Yeva was ripped from her seatbelt and slammed into the console located between her and the empty hatch opening. Adam held her hand tightly to keep her from getting sucked out through the escape hatch.
Suddenly, there was silence.
The rockets stopped; the ship was in orbit. Everything that had been pinned to the floor was suddenly floating, weightless, around the cabin interior. Hundreds of loose checklist pages floated haphazardly around Adam and Yeva, brushing against their visors. If the flight control computer was still functional, the MM10 engines would kick in soon and start pushing them toward Earth.
Adam would not let go of Yeva’s hand. The communication headsets weren’t working. He pulled her toward him and swiped the floating papers out of the way so he could see her face. She had blood pooling around her nose, but there was nothing she could do about it with her helmet on.